The Power of Prophecy: Revelation
by Ariel D
Summary: Story 9. Jarlaxle and Entreri are swarmed by monsters on all sides; the Stonar brothers and their newest ally, Darvin, are intent upon killing them and their allies. Everything that Jarlaxle and Entreri possess will be called upon in this final battle.
1. Conversion

_**Massive Warning: This story sits upon 9 stories' worth of character development for Artemis and Jarlaxle; do not attempt to judge their behavior by RotP's standards or SotS's standards, for that matter. This is an AU, and I have taken these characters on a journey. Keep that in mind.**_

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**The Power of Prophecy: Revelation**

By Ariel

_Description: Story 9. Jarlaxle and Entreri are swarmed by monsters on all sides; the Stonar brothers and their newest ally, Darvin, are intent upon killing them and their allies. Everything that Jarlaxle and Entreri possess will be called upon in this final overwhelming confrontation, and nothing will be the same._

_Disclaimer: Artemis Entreri, Jarlaxle, and all other recognizable characters belong to R.A. Salvatore and Wizards of the Coast. No challenge to the copyright is intended or should be inferred. The following story is just for the amusement of the fans and will never make any profit._

_A/N: This is the final story of the Continuing Adventures series. I think I've taken the characters as far as they'll comfortably go—or I will have by the end of this story. I may still finish "Darkest Hour," but it will have to wait until I finish this story. Because I've had requests, let me say that interested writers may contact me via PM if they wish to use Tai or Nyx in their stories after I'm done with this one._

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**Chapter One: Conversion**

Night had fallen upon the North, bringing a cool breeze and a sky of twinkling red or white stars. With the chirping crickets and croaking frogs, travelers would assume the area to be peaceful, even safe. However, appearances were deceiving.

Artemis Entreri crossed his arms and glared at his companions. From long experience, Tai Vatoshie and Nyx Jassan had looked to Jarlaxle to form a plan to defeat the Stonar twins and close the abysmal portal releasing monsters into Faerun, but in a show of peace, Jarlaxle had turned to Entreri.

"Well," Jarlaxle said with a small smile. "Ideas? Suggestions?"

Entreri smirked. "I always have liked a challenge." His gaze fell on the priest and monk of Hoar. "We have two problems, then. Closing that portal and breaching the castle without ending up in the maze again."

Tai glanced at the black monolith with its obsidian walls and six turrets. "Maze?"

Nyx patted her crown braid, sighed, then ran her hand through the auburn curls flowing down her back. "Yes, maze. When we first tried to breach the castle walls, we were teleported into a labyrinth filled with physical and psychological traps."

"And gorgons," Jarlaxle added, tossing up one hand in an offhand gesture.

"And flying books, hidden blades, and enchanted crystals," Entreri said. He drew his new sword, Black Widow, and let the moonlight reflect off the green-tinted blade. "I wounded Lander Stonar in combat, but by all indications, he's recovered." He sheathed the sword with a distinct snap.

Tai's brow furrowed, causing his slanted eyes to narrow further. "And I wounded Melcer Stonar with . . . an unusual spell granted to me by Hoar. But I, too, doubt he's dead." He glanced over the smooth walls. "No doors, no visible windows. It really is an effective fortress." He glanced back at the forest, from which a flock of birds suddenly evacuated with shrill calls. "But there is a portal opening to our west that will unleash gods-know-what on us."

"So perhaps the first question is how we close the portal," Jarlaxle said, rubbing his chin with his bandaged hand.

Nyx frowned at Tai. "Couldn't you just summon a devil and question it about the portal? They supposedly know a great deal about such things."

Tai shook his head, his silky black hair grazing his jaw as he did. "Definitely not. You can never use anything evil to accomplish something good: not evil means, and not evil creatures. Evil pollutes good by its mere presence. Devils may have knowledge, but you can't access it without endangering yourself or others. They might pretend to be cooperative or helpful at first, but they exist to harm others." He sighed. "The only sure way—the only safe way—to get such information is through Hoar. There is no need to call upon devils if you have a god."

"It's near midnight," Entreri said. "Is that not when you usually commune with Hoar?"

With a smile, Tai sat cross-legged on the ground. "It is."

"Ask for direction for both problems," Nyx said.

"I will." Tai closed his eyes and straightened his back. An expression of peace washed over his face, his brow smoothing.

"Damn," Nyx whispered. "I forgot to ask him what happened to Miri."

Entreri remained unmoved. "That's the least of our concerns, especially since the portal is now open. He said she's alive, so leave it at that for now." He turned to size up Jarlaxle. "How are your injuries? You may have to fight again soon."

Jarlaxle pulled one golden hoop earring from his ear. "As I said, they're all minor. But I will take this opportunity to confer with Kimmuriel." He held the hoop before his lips and whispered to it in drow.

"Wonderful," Entreri said sarcastically. "Now my day has been officially made." Yet despite his hatred of the psionicist, he suspected they would need all the help they could marshal since, if the monsters headed their way, the battle would technically be on two fronts.

* * *

Miri awoke and stared in confusion at the flickering shadows. Shadows where? On a wall. What wall? "Oh!" she exclaimed, but the word came out as a groan. _I'm in my bedroom._ The warm mahogany crown molding running along the ceiling edge was suddenly familiar, as were the emerald green bed curtains tied to the bed posts. Around the room, covering her vanity table, desk, and dresser, lay countless familiar items that should have offered her comfort: herbs, spices, bowls, and books. Somehow, though, it seemed profane—elements of a nature perverted, a world her own blood had turned against her. The lamp light flickering across the dried herbs, casting them into shadows, mutated them into bulbous, grasping hands: hands that would drag her through the portal into hell.

"Miri?" whispered a halting voice. "Are you awake?"

The druid glanced at her lifelong friend and fellow half elf, Darvin. He was staring at his lap and biting his lip, looking much like a whipped puppy, but Miri felt no pity. He was the one who should have understood her best; the one who had shared their interracial world. The one who had betrayed her and nearly killed her.

Miri bolted upright in bed and dismissed the resulting dizziness. "Traitor! Why are you in my room!" She glanced around, checking for her aunt or father, or at least a servant. "Why are you in my room alone?"

Darvin's look of misery immediately vanished into one of fury. "It was an accident! I will not hurt you now." He ran both hands through his short, spiky brown hair in a show of frustration.

But once again, Darvin had failed to understand Miri's heart. "An accident! All is well and should be forgiven because you _accidentally_ slit my throat? All is well because you _accidentally_ opened that portal? Because you fulfilled my destiny for me—a destiny I've hated my whole life?" She stood, pulling her white robe tight around her. "Get out! Your raging jealousy made my worst fear come true. Your jealousy might destroy our entire region!"

Darvin stood and glared at her. "It's not like I meant to!"

"That doesn't change the fact you did." Miri crossed her arms over her stomach. "Will you be able to face the parents of a child killed by one of those monsters and say, 'Sorry, it was an accident'?" She shook her head. "If you _are_ sorry, then go fix it!"

Darvin clenched his fists. "Me? Alone? It's _your_ blood."

"It's . . . my . . ." Miri stared at this stranger wearing the face of her friend. All her childhood companions had accused her of an easy-come, easy-go attitude because she loved being around people—many people. Balls, parties, weddings. However, her decisions to befriend and her decisions to end a friendship were hardly offhand. "You said yourself you have been my friend longer than anyone. Knowing me as well as you claim to, how dare you say such a thing to me!"

Darvin flinched again. "I'm sorry. I just . . ." He stared at the ground. "This is not what I meant to do at all. Not at all."

"But you did." Miri grew sad. "Have we both damned the world together?" She shook her head and walked to her wardrobe. "I have to go now, and I think it's best if we part ways here." She opened the door and withdrew a white riding outfit. "Stormrider died trying to save me. I almost died. And none of this had to happen." She turned toward Darvin, and in her mind, he was just as dead as her beloved wolf companion. "I'm not sure I can forgive you for opening that portal, but if you want there to be a chance of it, you'd best do something." She stalked past him, heading for the bathroom. "Either way, I don't care to see your face for a long, long time."

With those words, she opened her bedroom door and exited, slamming the door behind her and closing a chapter of her life.

* * *

Darvin stared at the bed Miri had vacated. She was furious with him, and he'd nearly killed her—and it was all Tai's fault. If that country boy hadn't come into their lives, Darvin would have had no reason to be angry, and he wouldn't have lost his temper and accidentally struck out. Then Miri wouldn't have had a reason to be mad at him or leave him.

Darvin put his face into his hands and sighed. "Why don't people listen to me?" Why didn't they understand that he knew what was best for them? Why didn't she see the obvious," he muttered. "We were destined to marry." As for Tai's accusation that Darvin didn't understand his own god, well, that was ridiculous. Darvin had begun training as a priest when he was seven. Of course he knew his god best!

But what to do? Darvin dropped his hands and sighed. "How do I get her back?" He knew what she planned to do. She'd grabbed her favorite riding outfit, which meant she was going to team up with that cursed brat priest again. But that path would only ensure her death. "How do I stop her from getting herself killed?"

"By controlling the monsters," answered a baritone voice from behind him.

Darvin whirled around. Before him stood two men, identical in appearance except for their clothes. One wore a red silk tunic with black dragons arching down the sleeves and black leather armor; the other wore a navy wizard's robe with silken swirls racing through it. They stood with their arms interlocked and leaning into each other slightly, both of them smiling at him.

For a moment Darvin was disgusted—not because of their open affection, because they were obviously twins, but because they had the same swallow complexion and slightly slanted eyes as Tai. "Who are you?"

The one in red spoke. "Lander and Melcer Stonar."

Darvin clenched his fists, desperately wanting to call down Hoar's wrath upon them. "How dare you show yourselves before me! You tried to kill Miri."

Lander smiled. "We weren't out to kill her, dear priest. We just needed a drop of her blood, as you saw when the portal opened. We had little time, though, so when you all fled, we had to use force to try to reach her."

Darvin blinked. The man's tone, body language, and even amount of eye contact all suggested he told the truth. Was the man really that accomplished of a liar, or was there a partial truth in the words? "Don't play me for a fool. Besides, your goal is still evil. You want to destroy this town with monsters."

Lander grew serious. "Not destroy it, for then there would be nothing to rule. We wanted to attain control of it through terror."

Darvin threw his arms wide. "Well, there you have it."

"Not entirely." Lander held up one hand in a sign for patience. "We aren't the bloodthirsty power-mongers you probably assume."

Darving snorted. "Sure."

"This is about family." Lander's eyes seemed to glow from within. "Our grandfather's ambition, our parents' ambition—a goal, a family legacy, a birthright. When our parents died, Melcer and I inherited that sacred dream: to rule within the Zhentarim. To build the Stonar family name."

"And I should care about your twisted legacy?" Darvin stared at them with hooded eyes.

"No," Melcer replied before his brother could continue. He dropped Lander's arm and stepped forward. "Our legacy is why we acted, but that is no longer the issue. We aren't asking you to trust us—you have no reason to. What we are asking you is to call a temporary truce with us so that we can stop the widespread destruction of this entire region. The one who opens the portal controls the monsters, and that's you. If you really want to stop the slaughter and save your girlfriend, you need to come with us."

Darvin straightened momentarily at having Miri named his girlfriend. "As it would seem. But what assurance do I have that you won't lock me up in your dungeon and torture me into controlling the monsters as you wish?"

"We entered both the house and this room without your knowledge," Lander said. "If we planned to use force and violence, we could have abducted you before you even knew what was happening."

Darvin supposed that was true, but it didn't mean he wasn't in danger. He crossed his arms and frowned at the brothers.

Melcer held out his hand. "Think about it. If we don't stop this onslaught, our home will be destroyed, too, and perhaps us with it."

"Your own faults in the end for seeking the portal." Darvin smirked.

"True," Melcer said, seemingly with all sincerity. "But you, like us, have much to lose if this is not put to a stop."

Darvin ultimately couldn't argue with that, and maybe after he learned to control the monsters he could kill the Stonars for starting this whole mess. "All right. What do I have to do?"

Lander stepped forward and clasped Darvin's shoulders. "Dear priest, it's really quite simple. Before your girlfriend reaches the others, you must set the monsters against them and kill them all. With their appetites momentarily sated, the monsters will be easier to control, and well . . ." He trailed off and smiled.

"Your rival in love won't be an issue any longer," the wizard said from behind his brother.

Darvin cringed. Murder? But the monsters and Miri and . . . He closed his eyes and sighed deeply. "I . . . don't really see any other way to handle the issue."

And deep inside his soul, in a blackness he didn't want to acknowledge, Darvin also couldn't help feeling relieved at the concept of Tai's death.

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_A/N: So, that was the longest hiatus of my fanfic writing life. My apologies. Thank you to anyone who returns to me and reviews/faves after such a long time._

_Forgive me if the chapters are shorter or the writing isn't as tight as usual. I'm not sure how long my inspiration will hold out, and I know for sure I'm pressed for time. I'm going to proceed as quickly as possible. As a result, I will not be sending out PMs to thank all the reviewers, but please know I appreciate every review and fave I get. I wouldn't be doing this if I didn't care._


	2. Legacy

**Chapter Two: Legacy**

The wizard's chambers reflected the height of wealth: a domed twenty-foot ceiling with intricate molding and a gold-inlaid painting of dragons arching over its surface; three walls of ceiling-high mahogany bookcases; and a craven jade desk covered with spell supplies and scrolls. In short, Darvin saw his "allies" were exponentially wealthy. Melcer had teleported Darvin and Lander directly to this room, so Darvin hadn't been able to assess the rest of the castle, but if the wizard's study were any indication, no expense had been spared.

Melcer had set up the needed equipment for Darvin, then the twins had left him to commune with Hoar and prepare himself. Therefore, Darvin now found himself standing before Melcer's scrying bowl and frowning at the water. The Stonars had been the soul of patience while he had communed with Hoar, and factually, Darvin knew he had no choice in the matter. To save Miri's life and re-secure her affection, he had to take control of the monsters and direct them to do the least amount of damage.

However . . .

Hoar had not been pleased with him, and communing had felt more like punishment. The god's words still rang in his head: _I revealed to you that Tai Vatoshie is my Chosen for this generation, and you have agreed to do something which will lead to his death? You choose to kill one of my Holy Javelins in the process? They have done no wrong to deserve vengeance. It is you who have committed a crime! Many innocents will die because of your jealous rage._

To Darvin's shock, Hoar had granted him only enough power for basic defensive spells. Fortunately, no experience in spell-casting was even required to control the horde of evil creatures escaping into the forest near Zelbross. So armed with nothing more than his wish to win Miri's trust again, he turned all the powers of his concentration upon the monsters shown in the scrying bowl and directed them to attack the people outside of the fortress without damaging the castle itself. As though to boost his mental connection to the horde, he reached his hands toward the water and pushed outward with his consciousness.

_Rid Miri of all distractions and keep the monsters away from her,_ Darvin told himself, repeating the words in his mind like a mantra. Granted, Tai and the Holy Javelin were among those people, but Miri came first over everything, even if it did displease Hoar. Surely he could just do an act of contrition later. _When the monsters' appetites are sated, I will control them while a means to close the portal is found._

With those thoughts, his mind brushed against what he felt like was a red mist in his mind—the power of the portal, the strength to control the horde.

* * *

Melcer watched the Hoarite priest through a crack in the door, then turned to face his brother, who leaned against a tapestry as he inspected his fingernails. "I don't like this," he said, closing the door.

Lander glanced up and dropped his hand. "No worries, little brother. Jealousy, although a complex emotion, is easy to manipulate, as is blind obsession mistaken for love."

Glancing down the hallway to ensure they were alone, Melcer stepped to his brother's side and whispered. "Maybe. And certainly we can kill him after we're finished if he proves a liability. But I sense a danger greater than wild monsters and determined mercenaries. I fear we will pay a great price for seeking fame and power."

"Price? There is always a price." A frown marred Lander's tanned yet sallow-toned Mulan face. With his shiny black hair, always bound into a tight ponytail, and his muscular physique, Lander had always drawn attention from women—more so than his twin. "Deaths always occur in battle."

Melcer shook his head. "I'm not talking about the townspeople or even the internal Zhent spies we've had to eliminate. I mean us, personally."

Lander pushed away from the wall and wrapped his arm around Melcer's shoulders. "We will be fine. Remember, this is a dream long in the making. When our great-grandfather began construction of the very maze beneath our feet, he had a vision of the Stonars gaining power and prominence among the Zhents. Our grandparents, our parents . . . they all shared that dream: not to be minor players on the world's stage, but a family to be known all throughout the North. A staple in the organization and even specifically the rulers of Loudwater. What we inherited was a legacy."

Sighing, Melcer turned his stare upon the marble floor. "You know that ever since our parents died, I have supported your ambitions and dreams."

"'Your'? Don't you mean 'our'?"

Melcer ignored the comment. "But as much as I have also wanted to live up to our family's vision, to complete what they couldn't when they were taken from us, there is something I prize more." Melcer cringed, closing his eyes. Even as a child tending to his brother after his infamous nightmares, Melcer had never been forthright about his feelings. He had always let his actions speak for him.

A long paused followed. "And what is that?" Lander asked, his voice unusually soft. Kind. This was the voice only Melcer heard, and even then, he only heard it when they were alone with no chance of spies.

Melcer gathered his courage and met his brother's gaze. He saw the love he felt mirrored in his twin's eyes. Never directly said but always obvious. "You. If you are killed during this—"

Lander hugged him to his side. "I will not be. Our parents trained me from an early age in martial arts, ensuring not only that I could carry their legacy but also that I could survive. The world will not be rid of me so easily."

So confident. So assured. So sure the future would be as he planed. Lander could not understand his fears, Melcer knew. Lander had taken the death of their parents harder, but in the end, he believed in the future. Melcer saw nothing but quicksand and felt assurance in nothing. Not his sorcery, even, or in Bane. He had survived by following his twin and reveling in his strength. "Let us hope you are right," he said, glancing at his office door. "I guess I'd best resume watching our priest, lest he try to double-cross us."

Lander released him but patted him on the back. "It will be fine. You'll see."

Melcer cracked open the door again and spied on Darvin. "I pray you're right."

* * *

Since Jarlaxle was conversing with Kimmuriel several yards away, Nyx was the first to notice the monsters approaching in the distance. She pointed at the black cloud passing across the moon and grabbed Tai's shoulder. "Look! Just as Hoar warned, the first wave of monsters is already here."

Entreri, however, was the one to notice the white figure at the bottom of the cliff. "And the monsters are not alone. I suspect the person on the horse below us is Miri."

"Miri?" Nyx sounded shocked. "But she was badly wounded by Darvin."

Tai gasped and ran to the edge, peering over. "Miri-sen! It is her. But you're right. Even though I healed her, she's probably still weak from blood loss. Why did she come?"

The assassin watched the fear furrow Tai's brow, heard the panic sharpen his voice. "So you've already become her boyfriend, I take it."

Tai jumped faintly and turned his stare upon Entreri. "I—we—it's just . . ."

"Just help me implement the information Hoar departed to you," Entreri said, sighing. For once in his life, he was glad to know a priest. He turned toward Jarlaxle just as Kimmuriel stepped through the blue dimensional door back to Menzoberranzan. "Jarlaxle!"

The drow ran up to him, all traces of his limp gone. He held up a healing orb and grinned. "No worries. I'm perfect once more, so—" His gaze flickered upward. "And apparently just in time." He stowed the orb in a dimensionally-compressed pouch on his belt.

"First things first," Entreri said, pointing at the white figure searching for handholds on the cliff below. "Retrieve our druid for us. We'll need all the help we can get."

Jarlaxle followed his gaze. "Miri Brightwood?" He shrugged with a smile. "Very well." He touched the crest on his cape, stepped off the cliff, and began levitating downward.

Entreri watched Tai's shoulders slump in relief. "If Hoar has any use at all, tell him to spare me teenagers in puppy-love."

Even in the darkness, Tai's blush was obvious. "I won't let it interfere with my fighting."

"You best not because if you do, I won't save you." Entreri motioned him toward the caste wall. "Now show me what Hoar told you."

"And be quick," Nyx added, her gaze upon the approaching horde.

Tai drew his vorpal dagger and touched the tip to the castle wall. "Hoar said the trick is to not let your flesh touch the stone at any time. The door is actually here on the west wall, but we have to trigger its appearance—"

"And then disarm its trap," Entreri interrupted, understanding his role in the matter.

"Exactly." Tai prayed under his breath, apparently calling upon Hoar's power to more easily locate the door, and began walking, lightly dragging the tip of his dagger across the caste wall.

"If only Hoar had been so quick to tell you how to close the portal," Entreri muttered as he followed the priest.

Tai smiled. "He told me to be patient. That means there is a way, I just won't get the answer immediately."

Entreri decided gods were quite mysterious at times. "Then I hope the answer comes sooner rather than later," he replied drily.

"Indeed." Tai merely laughed, but his mirth was interrupted when his dagger sparked and a glowing silver outline of a door appeared.

"My turn." Entreri knelt before the door and unpacked the tools of his trade.

"Tai!" called a female voice.

Tai turned the voice and grinned. "Miri-sen! Are you all right? Are you sure you should be up moving so soon?"

Entreri snorted as Tai ran to join his little girlfriend. He'd never gone through that phase, never been love-struck, never had a crush, but he'd seen it in others in the guilds. For a moment, he wanted to yell after Tai and tell him to wake up and face reality, but Tai wasn't him. Maybe Tai had a chance at a better life.

_Better?_ Entreri questioned himself, but he immediately tossed aside the thought and set about disarming the magical trap on the door, careful to not let his skin touch the stone.

Jarlaxle strolled over and knelt by him with a smile. "One druid retrieved. Tai seemed terribly happy to see her."

"Kids," Entreri muttered.

Jarlaxle laughed and looked at the door. "Need magical assistance? We are running out of time here."

"Don't be insulting. It may be complex, but it's hardly out of my league." Entreri pulled a pouch off his belt. "I think the easiest approach—"

"We're out of time!" Nyx interrupted as she ran to their sides. "We have aerial and land attackers here."

Entreri stood to assess the situation, only to find a horde of monsters bearing down upon them: lamias, achaierai, dire lions, athachs, otyughs, yrthaks, ankhegs, young dragons, and countless other creatures were swooping, swarming, or stampeding up the cliff toward them. "Hells!"

Nyx yelled over her shoulder. "Tai! Get Miri out of here! She's still too weak to fight."

"I'll be fine!" Miri yelled back, but Tai invoked a dimensional door and yanked her through it.

"Good," Nyx said.

"Better," Jarlaxle said, removing the circle of black felt from his hat and throwing it against the castle wall.

"That wall is enchanted!" Entreri resisted the drow's tug on his arm. "You don't know if—"

Jarlaxle tugged, and Nyx slammed into his back. "I'm not fighting that," she growled into his ear as they all three fell through the opening.

Entreri expected to die instantly. Instead he found himself on top of Jarlaxle and Nyx atop him, a pile of bodies on a crimson tile floor. He glanced at the corridor with its arching ceiling shaped like an upside-down **V**.

The maze.

"I'm going to kill you both myself," Entreri snarled.

* * *

_A/N: Thank you to everyone who reviewed chapter 1! I wasn't sure if anyone would return to me, so much love to you guys._


	3. The Best Laid Plans

**Chapter Three: The Best Laid Plans . . .**

Darvin smacked the ceramic scrying bowl and growled as it shattered on the marble floor. "Miri! Dammit!" He punched the jade worktable and ignored the blood that oozed from his knuckles. He had nearly killed the one person he wanted to spare.

The dragons painted on the domed ceiling seemed to stare upon him with glee, as though they thought him the fool, and he glared up at them with seething hate. For a moment, the towering bookcases seemed closer to horizontal prison bars than furniture.

Behind him, the door flew open, and Melcer ran to his side. "What is it? What has gone wrong?" He glanced at the broken bowl, frowned, but pulled over a second bowl without comment.

"Miri showed up just when the monsters arrived!" Darvin turned his glare upon his 'ally.' "Although I knew she was headed here, I never imagined she'd make such good time traveling. The monsters should have killed your intruders and been gone before she arrived." He smacked his hands against his face and rubbed his skin roughly before running his hands through his spiky hair. "I almost killed her, again."

With calm, graceful movements, Melcer poured water into the new bowl and invoked his scrying spell. "Indeed. That is unexpected." He surveyed the scene. "However, I see no sign of her or the other priest, and I can tell you that the other three are back in our maze."

"That's because the 'other priest' opened a dimensional door and whisked her away to safety!" Darvin threw his arms wide, his gesture purposely over-dramatic. "Once more, she's saved by the wonderful Tai!"

Melcer raised one thin eyebrow, and all Darvin could see in the wizard's sallow complexion, slanted eyes, and glossy black hair was a reflection of Tai's Mulan heritage. "Your hair is longer," Darvin commented absently, pointing to Melcer's ponytail, "but past that, you look rather a lot like him."

"Like Tai Vatoshie?" Melcer nodded. "My mom's family immigrated from Unther, so it is likely that his ancestors and mine share blood." He raised his eyebrow again. "But just because I look similar to the boy doesn't mean you should transfer your hate to me." He pointed to the scrying bowl, which showed a horde of wandering monsters bumping into each other. "You have more important things to consider. Right now, the monsters are temporarily stunned and confused by the sudden break of contact from your mind. However, within minutes they will recover and attack this castle." His dark brown eyes narrowed. "I don't need to tell you what that means. This fortress has been physically and magically enforced to the highest standards, but it is still only a human-made structure. If that many creatures descend upon us at once, you won't be alive long enough to worry if Vatoshie steals your girlfriend. In fact, your girlfriend will probably die within the next three days as the monsters raze this entire area."

Darvin's shoulders slumped as he considered the mess. "No time for anger or regret," the half-elf muttered to himself. "I have to get the horde under control again."

"And quickly." Melcer stepped back, giving him space.

_For Miri,_ Darvin reminded himself.

* * *

Tai glanced around the forest clearing, which was one his friends and he had rested in once before. The crescent moon hardly illuminated the grassy expanse with its fallen logs, but Tai could neither see nor sense danger. The dimensional door he'd opened could only teleport people short distances, but at least it had removed them from the horde.

"I could have fought," Miri said from behind him. "Your healing spell worked better than you must think, plus I drank a healing potion before I left home."

Tai faced her and noted the halo effect the moonlight created upon her platinum blonde hair. Even when she was upset, he couldn't deny the beauty of her gracefully pointed ears and fine features. "Miri-sen . . ." He sighed. "I couldn't take the chance, and even with all five of us fighting, there were too many monsters."

Miri bit her lip and jabbed her short spear into the ground. "I suppose you're right." She fisted her white cape at the throat. "Did you . . . commune with Hoar? And did you ask him how to close the portal?"

"Hoar told me to wait patiently for the answer." Tai cringed. "I realize that's not comforting, considering your home is in danger, but think about it. That horde came straight for us. It's obvious the Stonars have a way of controlling it, and killing us appears to be their first objective. Until they succeed, they may not release the monsters on Loudwater, and that gives the priests, druids, wizards, and warriors of your town time to prepare."

Miri nodded. "I . . . see your point. And my aunt and father have already joined the task force assembling to defend the town." She clutched her cape tighter. "But that doesn't change the fact my blood caused this, and that Darvin—" She cut off her words and squeezed shut her eyes.

"Miri-sen . . ." Tai stepped closer to her and rubbed her shoulder. "You didn't choose any of this. You wanted nothing more than to stop it. There's no reason to blame yourself for—"

"Teach me about Hoar!" Miri interrupted, opening her eyes and capturing Tai with her intense gaze. "I can't get from nature what I need—justice. Hoar is all about poetic justice, right? Vengeance? Well, I need it." She dropped her arm and clenched both fists at her sides. "I need it for what Darvin did to me, but more than that, I need it for this prophecy and the way it's ruined my life. I need it for all the destruction and death this portal and its monsters will cause. So tell me."

Tai was stunned. He tried and occasionally succeeded in converting people to the ways of Hoar, but he'd never had anyone come to him. "You want to follow Hoar?"

Miri nodded. "I think so. Tell me everything, and let me see that Assurian Codex Darvin gave you."

Tai was more than happy to have a convert to Hoar, but he was worried about Miri's rational. "I don't mind teaching you the way of poetic justice. I'll begin whenever you want, but be sure this is what you really desire." He felt his brow furrow. "Right now, you're hurt and enraged over your friend's betrayal, but despite his jealousy and stupidity, I don't think he wanted to hurt you."

Miri sighed and wandered over to a fallen log, sitting heavily. "I . . . know that. But Darvin has always passed the blame. When I awakened, he was sorry, but he still went so far as to throw it back in my face: 'It's your blood.' He's so busy trying to excuse himself he's not even thinking about all the people who may be—and probably will be—killed." She dropped her face into her hands. "He's been this way all his life, striking back at others even when he's genuinely at fault. But I'm not perfect, either, so I always just let it go, until now."

Tai sat by her. "I see. But that alone isn't a reason to change gods. Or in your case, from a goddess to a god."

Miri dropped her hands and gazed at the moon. "My druidism is more about nature itself than Eldath. But you're right. And that's not the only reason." She turned her gaze upon Tai.

Even in the dim light, Tai could see her exhaustion and sorrow. "Then what?"

"I was cursed from birth for this moment." Miri reached out and touched the symbol of Hoar on Tai's chest. "No one knows why. Some say it's the only possible result of mixing human and elven blood. Some say it was merely a prophecy set by the gods. But I worked all my life to protect nature and the people I love, and yet my blood is spilled for destruction. That goes beyond the simple sentiment of 'that's not fair.' That is a cruelty worthy of vengeance. I can't remove the curse, but I can fight evil more directly under the practices of a god like Hoar."

Tai understood her anger, but he still wasn't sure if she were making the right decision. "Very well. I'll begin, but don't consider yourself bound to your decision. You need to learn more about Hoar before you commit yourself to this permanently."

Miri nodded. "I suppose that's wise advice." She sighed deeply. "Look . . . there's a good-sized stream about two miles west of here. We can put some distance between ourselves and the monsters for now, and you can freshen up at the stream. You haven't had the chance to bathe and rest like I have."

"Sounds like an excellent idea." Tai stood and held out his hand.

For the first time that evening, Miri smiled. Standing, she took his hand and then grabbed her short spear. "Then let's go."

* * *

Deep underground, caught in the Stonars' maze, Entreri slashed Black Widow at his unfortunate companions, not so much to attempt killing them as to vent his displeasure. "I could have finished disarming the trap before the horde reached us," he said in a deceptively quiet voice. "There was no need to risk death or throw ourselves into the unknown."

Jarlaxle had two swords in his hands—daggers he had elongated from his magical bracers; Nyx held her nunchuku before her, the chain snapped tight. Both watched him with rather comically wide eyes.

"Now, now, my friend," Jarlaxle said, keeping both blades in a defensive stance. "We didn't know how much longer it would take you, and that horde was approaching swiftly."

"It's a good thing you got a new healing orb," Entreri replied drily. "You're going to need it."

Jarlaxle frowned, and his uncovered eye narrowed as he apparently tried to gauge how serious Entreri was.

"I haven't seen this particular aspect of your skills in action enough to know how quickly you can finish," Nyx said, her tone calm and respectful but not patronizing. "I decided that faced with the two apparent options, trying Jarlaxle's magical opening was better."

Entreri glared at her, trying to place her attitude. She reminded him of someone, he realized, with the way she listened to him and let him bounce ideas off her. Even her calm diplomacy in adverse situations seemed familiar—that is until her temper was officially triggered and she decided to bash skulls. "So that so?" he asked noncommittally, mentally sizing up all her defenses and weaknesses.

"That is so," she replied, her persona stable, as though her sheer logic should reveal the truth of her words.

Entreri smirked suddenly. _Dwahvel,_ he thought to himself, remembering the one person who he ever believed he could call 'friend'—unless he decided to count the mysterious priest who seemed to keep turning up at his side. With her fiery temper set aside, Nyx almost reminded him of the Halfling in the way she treated him.

"We navigated our way out of this maze once before, so we surely can again," Jarlaxle added.

Entreri glared at the drow and stepped closer, causing his companions to tense. With his current anger, he wasn't sure if he wanted to ever count Jarlaxle as a friend, but he still couldn't dismiss his earlier revelation that the overzealous mercenary was 'human.' "Oh, yes, we navigated it so well by falling into various traps that nearly got us impaled or driven insane." He stepped back and sheathed his sword. "You're both utter fools, but I'm sure that you also realize that if I meant to kill you, you'd both be dead already."

Nyx's shoulders slumped in apparent relief, and it was obvious she believed just that. "Poetic justice, I take it. Vengeance on us for not trusting you." She stored her weapon.

"If that's what you want to call it." Entreri sneered at them.

Jarlaxle watched him a moment longer, then reversed the enchantment on his blades. "More like a reminder that Artemis Entreri does not level threats he cannot and will not carry out."

Entreri graced the drow with a smile that utterly lacked kindness, then glanced around their surroundings. Vaulted ceiling, crimson tile floor, wall murals. It looked exactly like the hallway they had first been teleported to. "All the traps must have reset."

"Wonderful," Nyx said, stepping to his side. "You'd best handle this, then."

However, Entreri found himself staring at the mural, which depicted a thick forest with dire wolves chasing a unicorn and a vulture circling overhead. "This isn't the same hallway."

Jarlaxle nodded. "Different mural. But probably no less dangerous." He took off his hat long enough to run his hand over his scalp. "The last mural depicted a gorgon, which we were later attacked by."

"So this time it will be dire wolves?" Nyx asked.

"I suspect it's less literal and more symbolic this time," Jarlaxle replied.

Entreri couldn't help agreeing. "The only question is whether the forest indicates the physical nature of the maze or the psychological nature."

Beside him, Nyx shuddered faintly. "Anything but the room with the mirrors and crystals."

Focusing his attention on Jarlaxle, Entreri noted that the drow's shoulders grew stiff and wondered once again what horrors lurked in the mercenary's mind. "Agreed. But although it might be safer for us to remain together—"

"—we can find an exit into the main castle more quickly if we separate," Jarlaxle finished for him.

Nyx lightly grasped Entreri's arm. "But last time we separated we almost never found Jarlaxle."

"Ten minutes," Jarlaxle said to the monk. "I'll explore the left side of the hallway for ten minutes, then stop and return to this point. You and Entreri can take the right side and do the same."

"You'll go alone again?" Entreri asked, secretly surprised considering the condition he had found the drow in earlier.

Jarlaxle smiled. "I have more magical gadgets at my disposal than you." He waved over his shoulder as he headed down the hallway.

Nyx looked to Entreri. "Well? What do you think?"

"That we're probably quite mad," Entreri replied, but he headed to the right, checking for traps as he went. "But we also don't have much time."

Being unable to argue with this assessment, Nyx followed him.

* * *

Miri watched the dawn light tint the horizon rose and tried to find solace in the beauty of nature. However, her imagination presented her with images of burnt and leveled forests and towns—the result of the horde. She shook her head, trying to dismiss the thought.

As planned, she and Tai had traveled two miles to the nearest stream, where Tai was now cleaning himself up. He had kept her distracted while they walked, teaching her the basic tenets of Hoar. Now that she was alone, though, her guilt threatened to consume her. The spilling of her blood would damn the world.

"Shut up!" she hissed at herself, but her mind would not be silent. For a horrifying moment, she wondered if it had been better if she'd died with her mother. She had killed her mother by simply being born, and now countless others would die, too. If she'd simply never drawn breath . . .

Miri stood abruptly and headed toward the stream. She knew Tai was trying to freshen up, but she couldn't be alone. And more than anyone she had ever known, except her aunt, Tai's presence calmed her. Despite the shadows that occasionally passed over his face, he still radiated an inner peace she didn't understand, and all she wanted at the moment was to be hugged, to be held, to be assured that she was a person and not just an object of destruction.

She wound through the trees and stopped at the stream bank, gazing down the slope at Tai. He was sitting on a boulder at the water's edge, his back toward her, apparently preparing to bathe. Taking a deep breath, Miri opened her mouth to call to him but stopped short as she took in the sight. She found herself staring at the expanse of Tai's bare back. He had pulled his legs up to his chest and wrapped his arms around them, so from behind, all Miri really saw of the priest was the top of his pants, the nape of his neck, and his back. She could see the faint outline of muscles beneath the tan skin, and she instinctively reached out, wanting to touch him.

But could she? She was still haunted by his terror-filled reaction at their first kiss, even though they had kissed again after he calmed down. During her life, she had talked with enough friends and acquaintances to pick up stories—stories of lovers who struggled with sex, stories of sexual misfires. She couldn't be sure, of course, but she suspected that Tai suffered the effects of a past sexual experience gone wrong. When Tai had panicked during their kiss, Miri had suggested the nonsexual option of strangulation only to save his pride. Secretly, though, she'd worried for her new friend, this priest she found so attractive.

Frowning to herself, Miri made her decision. She walked down the bank and placed her hand on Tai's right shoulder blade. Warm, smooth skin met her palm, and Tai lifted his head and glanced back at her.

"Hello," he whispered, the faintest of blushes on his cheeks.

She smiled at him. "Is this all right?" She stroked across his back, then ran her fingers down his spine.

Tai arched his back into her hand with a soft "Mmm."

Miri reached out with both hands, massaging his back, and rubbing the muscles on each side of his spine. Another "mmm" met this endeavor, so she knelt behind him and kissed down his spine. Goosebumps raced across Tai's skin, and he faintly shuddered.

"Would it bother you if I kissed the back of your neck?" Miri asked quietly.

Tai grew very still for a moment. "I'm unsure."

"I'm going to try," she whispered, leaning forward. She pushed his silky black hair over one shoulder and brushed her lips across the nape of his neck.

Tai gasped sharply, and Miri jerked backward as though burned. "Was it bad again? I'm so sorry!"

Tai shook his head. "No, not bad," he said in an uneven, harsh voice. "Please, do it again."

With a small smile, Miri put her hands on his sides and leaned forward. Gently, she brushed her lips across the warm skin of his neck, and Tai gasped again. At the sound of his desire, Miri felt a tidal wave of heat rush through her body, flooding her cheeks with blood. She would have never guessed that giving someone else pleasure would make her feel good.

"May I—" She couldn't complete the sentence. Afraid yet bold, she leaned to the side and pressed her lips against the side of Tai's neck. The priest moaned, his shoulder jerking slightly, but he didn't react with the terror she'd feared. Conscious of keeping her hands on his sides, she kissed him at the junction of his neck and shoulder. Tai's breath caught in a rugged gasp, and then so suddenly that Miri shrieked, Tai turned and grasped her, yanking her into his lap. He wrapped her in his arms, and his tongue slid into her mouth as he kissed her deeply. She relaxed at the feel of the heat radiating from his chest and embraced him in return, running one hand down his back.

A groan tore from Tai's throat, and just as suddenly, he was shoving her away from him. She landed on the ground at his feet, and he scrambled away to kneel on the other side of the rock.

"Leave," he ordered in a breathless voice.

"What?" Miri felt lanced through the stomach; tears sprang to her eyes.

Tai shoved his face into his hands. "I don't have enough—I'm . . . I'm afraid I'll lose control!" The words were muffled, but he jerked his hands away from his face and fisted them in front of him. "Please just go for now! I don't want to hurt you."

Miri fled.

* * *

_A/N: Thank you so much to Sushi-san85, ShadowShapeShifter, Lady Annikaa, Lessiehanamoray, Chi, TobyKikami, and Iceheart Firesoul for the reviews, as well as those of you who have faved or put alerts on my story! I really appreciate your support, especially since I was gone for a long time. Fortunately, my muse is holding up. (smile) I'm doing my best to write the whole story during Christmas Break, but I do have other things I have to do. I'll try hard, though!_


	4. Closing Wounds

**Chapter Four: Closing Wounds **

After Miri fled, Tai sat in the clearing for long minutes, shuddering and trying to slow his breathing. He wrapped his arms tightly around himself and rocked back and forth, willing his stomach to unclench and his emotions to calm. He'd never felt such a jolt of passion in his life—not when dreaming and not during their previous kiss. Miri's lips upon his neck had invoked a consuming desire which had made him want to give himself over to it, to lose control. Even now, the image of him wrapped in her naked arms and legs teased his mind with cruelty.

While Tai had never been stoic, he had never been a person of overwhelming emotions—not one to fly into a towering rage or burst into tears. Even his childhood wrath over his brother's execution had not culminated in yelling or breaking things but more in sulking and bitterness. Therefore, the onslaught of passion had terrified him, ripping away his balance and presenting him with a need so powerful he'd feared he might force himself on Miri. Surely he could not be so base! Surely he could not be the thing he hated and condemned most. But until he was sure he could control himself, he could not endanger Miri. He would have to hold her away until he had absolute command over himself.

. . . absolute command.

Tai lowered his arms and stared into the stream before him. The entire world seemed to click into place in his mind even though the priest knew that his epiphany involved only one person.

Artemis Entreri.

The assassin who jested that he had no friends. The man who seemed almost bemused by Nyx's attraction to him. Cold and distant, stoic and unemotional. And most of all, completely in control of himself at all times. The man who ruled himself with an iron fist.

Tai had never forgotten what Jarlaxle had revealed to him about Entreri's past, and now Entreri's behavior made perfect sense. To trust was to surrender oneself and become vulnerable. To feel passion was to risk unleashing a monster inside oneself. To secure himself from either option, Entreri had sculpted himself into a frozen statue, a killer, a man who cared for no one—probably not even himself.

With this realization came a second one: Tai now had the same choice. He could let his past rule his future, shut down his emotions, and deny him most human experiences. Or carefully, with Hoar's guidance, he could forge forward even at the risk of self-injury, and he could focus on making sure his wounds did not hurt others.

The time for his decision had come.

Tai stood and put on his shirt and belt. He could only imagine the look of determination on his face as he wove through the trees, trailed Miri's escape path. In order to reverse the damage he'd just rendered, he had no option but to be brutally honest, but he gathered his courage and followed the sounds of weeping.

Miri was leaning against a tree in the clearing they'd located, her arms wrapped around her legs, which she hugged to her chest. When she glanced up at him, she blushed. "Sorry. I guess too much has happened to me too quickly. I just . . . couldn't seem to stop myself from crying." She closed her eyes and sighed. "I hurt you again, didn't I?" After brushing away her tears, she opened her eyes again and stared at her knees. "I didn't mean to. I know what my friends say behind my back—that I'm fun to be around but rather shallow. Sometimes I think Darvin believes I'm callous. But . . . it's not true. They don't worship nature as I do, and I have no words to express the strength and beauty of what I see in every tree, hill, boulder, and stream. And I have cared, just always in a more global sense. I've always been so obsessed with not letting my blood destroy the world, I never really stopped to consider individual people."

Tai listened in silence, shocked that _she_ was apologizing to _him_.

"But I don't want to hurt you," Miri continued. "You've been so kind since the moment we first met, and I feel this weird sense of peace around you. Or maybe from within you."

_Within me?_ Tai wanted to ask, warmed by the compliment.

"Still, I did, didn't I?" She finally met his gaze. "I knew you were hurt somehow from when we kissed the first time. But—" She grinned and laughed, almost sadly. "But I think you're handsome, so I chose not to keep my hands to myself. I'm sorry, Tai. I knew better, but I was selfish."

Tai stepped forward, momentarily surprised beyond words. "M-Miri-sen!"

"Just call me Miri."

He blushed and wondered if she could ever understand what that meant in his culture. "Miri . . . you were very careful. You didn't hurt me, I just scared myself. My training as a priest was very rigorous, and needless to say, I've never had a girl kiss my neck. I had no idea that it was . . . that it would . . ." He couldn't quite figure out how to explain it.

"That it was your erogenous zone?" Miri supplied.

Tai pondered what little he knew on that topic and realized she had to be right. "Uh . . . yeah." He felt his face flush darker. "But . . ." He glanced away. "There's more to it than that."

"You mean the choking?" she asked quietly.

Tai turned away from her and crossed his arms over his stomach. "That I was choked at all was bad enough." His throat felt like it was constricting, and his words emerged strained. "I was choked while . . ." For a moment he was sure he couldn't say it. What would she say? How would she react? He took a slow, deep breath. "I was r-raped . . . by a . . . man."

Silence met this announcement. Tai squeezed his eyes shut and felt his stomach constrict to the point he thought he'd vomit. Then a rustle of clothing told him Miri was standing; he could hear her quiet footsteps approaching.

A small hand squeezed his shoulder from behind. "So. We both are cursed in our own ways."

Tai opened his eyes and faced her. "Miri . . .?"

Her expression was sad but kind, with shadows playing in her green eyes. "Or perhaps I shouldn't say 'cursed.' Maybe I should say we both have burdens to bear. You're quite brave to admit your scars and see them for what they are. I've always used mine as either a motivation or an excuse." A tiny smile bent her lips. "But we plan to put my burden to rest. There is no reason why you can't heal as well." She dropped her hand. "If . . . you still would like to have a relationship with me, then we'll just have to discuss what we can and can't do, or should or shouldn't do. Don't hesitate to be honest with me. It hurts when people stomp on my scars. I don't want to stomp on yours."

Tai stared at her. She hadn't laughed or been disgusted; she didn't want to leave. She just didn't want to hurt him. "That . . . works." He felt his shoulders slump in relief, and his stomach relaxed as well. "We can figure that out as we go."

Miri nodded and retrieved her short spear from its resting place by the tree. "So? What now? Do we head back toward your friends, or do we head to Loudwater and help fight there? Maybe someone has researched and found a way to close the portal."

"Actually, neither." Tai gazed at her with utter seriousness. "I think it's time for you to commune with Eldath. Your curse was and is tied to nature, and Hoar told me to wait. I suspect that is because Hoar wants you to find the answer yourself."

Miri paled. "But you said you'd teach me about Hoar."

"I already began," he pointed out. "But before you make up your mind forever, I think you need to talk to Eldath at least one last time. After all, she is a goddess who focuses on peace and the preservation of nature. She avoids conflict if at all possible. Don't you think she might have a nonviolent answer to our dilemma?"

Miri stared at her short spear for several long moments. "You're . . . right. My personal prayer time is at dawn, but it's not too far past dawn."

"I suspect she will answer no matter when you call to her."

Miri nodded and sat on the grass, laying her spear beside her. "Then I leave myself to your protection while I commune."

Tai drew his magical dagger. "My pleasure."

* * *

Having reached the hallway's end, Jarlaxle leaned against the varnished wood that created a dead end. "Unscathed, at least," he muttered to himself, glancing at the traps he'd magically disarmed. It had only taken him five minutes to finish his exploration, so he had time for what he needed: full contemplation of his new items. Being trapped in that magical hole had been one of the least pleasant experiences of his life, and definitely the most humbling. He hadn't felt so naked and helpless since he was a child. His mouth hardened into a frown. "And it won't happen again," he informed the walls.

With building anticipation, he opened the dimensional pouch on his belt and began extracting items: the new healing orb, a replacement earring that could defeat various enchantments, a new displacement cloak, and a solid platinum wand. Storing the orb again, he exchanged an earring and his cloak in short order, leaving only the platinum wand. He held the piece, running his fingertips over the beautiful metal. Shiny and reflective, it was perhaps the most beautiful wand he'd ever owned. And also the most dangerous.

"Should I use you?" he whispered to the magical powerhouse. "If I do, I can surely defeat these foolish humans, but I may also—"

Jarlaxle stopped himself, realizing the Stonars could be spying upon him, and stowed the wand. Carefully, he wound his way back through the sprung traps. His thoughts would not be still, however. For the first time in his life, he felt compelled enough to ensure the safety of someone other than himself. In the moment Entreri had saved him from the pit, despite the drow's earlier "betrayal," something had happened which Jarlaxle could not explain. And it wasn't Entreri's gruff kindness, or the fact the man had saved him from unbearable torture. Something in the assassin's eyes had changed, as though he'd had a revelation. And whatever Entreri had seen or accepted, Jarlaxle knew he was the recipient.

What a grand mystery the man had presented him this time, but Jarlaxle loved puzzles. More than that, this mystery seemed to reach beyond all the games and masks and speak to something inside the drow—something he couldn't even name. Perhaps that was why Jarlaxle had levied his newest challenge to Kimmuriel's skills, but he was no longer sure.

"I spent all this time manipulating you, challenging you, pushing you forward," Jarlaxle whispered to the absent man. "And now you have done something to me in return. What is it, my friend?"

Jarlaxle only knew one way to find the answer.

* * *

"Are you sure we should have let Jarlaxle wander off alone? He was in bad shape when we finally found him before."

Entreri glanced at Nyx, then knelt down to test for pressure plates. "If he's feeling confident enough to try, who am I to disagree? Besides, this way is faster." Finding no floor traps, he turned his attention to the walls. In the past five minutes, he'd already disengaged a dozen mechanisms. "And he obviously received new items from his lieutenant. I suspect he's armed with all sorts of new, dangerous toys."

Nyx snorted and remained utterly still behind the assassin, as ordered. "Probably. But it's not his physical well-being I'm worried about. He obviously went through the room with the mirrors and crystals, and I don't know about you, but that experience was even worse than being chased by a gorgon."

Ignoring her observation, Entreri held up a block of wood and triggered the poisoned needle trap he'd located. Ten needles thudded into the wood. "Next," he sighed, moving forward a few feet and testing the floor again.

"So you're not worried," Nyx said, and he could hear the smile in her voice.

Entreri paused and considered her teasing words. "Not worried, no. Although I have no idea what images must have formed for Jarlaxle." The violent memories he'd seen, the abuse of his childhood, bubbled up in his mind, and he pushed them back. "Nothing pleasant, I'm sure."

"That's an understatement!"

Entreri grinned to himself as he turned his attention to the walls again. Nyx's fiery side was emerging. He supposed it made her a merciless fighter, if nothing else.

"I know what it showed me," she continued, "and I've heard some real horror stories about Menzoberranzan."

"You saw death," Entreri noted, almost absently. He could find no traps in the floor or walls. That meant he needed to focus on the ceiling . . .

"Yes. At one point, it seemed like I was seeing the future, and you and Tai were dead." Her voice grew quiet. "In fact, your bodies were mangled—they didn't even look human anymore."

Entreri halted his inspection and stood to face her. The same question hit him as had intrigued him in the mirror room: why him? When she'd emerged from the trap, Entreri found her comment about Tai to be understandable. But why him? And why not Jarlaxle, too? "But it was all just a mind game. Jarlaxle would know that."

Nyx stared at a point beyond Entreri's right shoulder, her brown eyes narrowed. "I suppose so. But I saw the past first, and that was real."

"Yes, I remember. You saw your father's death." Entreri crossed his arms. "But the ability to extract a memory from your mind doesn't mean that the trap had the ability to accurately predict the future. Recall what I said—it wasn't a prophecy." He felt an overpowering urge to underscore his final point, as though the strength of his assertion could erase the 'futuristic' images he'd been shown.

With a sigh, Nyx grabbed the long strands of auburn hair sticking to her neck and yanked them back. Using her free hand, she rubbed her neck muscles. "I suppose. I mean, it also showed me . . ." A frown furrowed her brow, darkening her features. "It also showed me the slaughter at the monastery." She closed her eyes and inhaled deeply. "I hadn't been at the monastery for long when it was attacked. I wanted to help fight, but one of the elderly monks grabbed me and hid me. All those screams, though, and the—" She shuddered and opened her eyes. "It's the details that bother me. My memories were presented to me with more details than I could readily remember. So when the 'future' ones—"

"Magic," Entreri interrupted flatly. "I could see, hear, smell, taste, and feel everything, too, but that is simple for a powerful wizard." He glanced at the ceiling, returning his attention to the task at hand. The plaster was discolored and cracked in a straight line. One more step forward, and something wound fall on them. Now to find the trigger.

Silence hung between Nyx and him for several minutes as he searched, then she finally spoke. "I suppose you're right about the magic. Still . . ." She paused. "Not to pry, but what did the mirror reveal to you? Not that you have to answer that, of course."

Entreri almost told her to shut up or die, but it suddenly seemed pointless to him. Wasn't his attitude merely a reflection of his beliefs? And he _knew_ he was no longer that child and would never be that sick adult the mirror had taunted him with. "Grief," he replied simply, glancing back at her with a smirk.

"Grief?"

"For a boy who had to fight daily to stay alive. A boy disgusted by the world and all the wretches in it." Entreri sneered at the memory of his father, of all the corrupt men and women he'd killed in his life. "And the rage of a man who still sees no good in it."

Nyx stared at him, apparently struck speechless by his unusual honesty. "Grief is natural," she said at last. "But is it eternal?"

Entreri's sneer grew. "Maybe. I have never let go."

She seemed puzzled. "But you just gave voice to the unspeakable. Isn't that the first step to healing?"

"Did you heal?" He raised an eyebrow at her, skeptical. "Isn't your attitude basically that if you don't bring justice or vengeance to the world, no one else will?"

"Definitely," Nyx replied. "In most places the law is too corrupt to do it, and the average person can't enact justice or vengeance on their own."

"Then you see a world as wretched as I see." Entreri shrugged. "So why care?"

"I care _because_ the world is an unjust, evil place," Nyx replied. "Since no one else will work to correct that, I must. Take for example my father, who was killed by bandits along the Evermoor Way. I was ten at the time, so I couldn't avenge him myself, but fortunately, a traveling monk administered justice. Justice had to be sought and won, and I followed that monk's example."

Entreri considered Nyx for a few minutes, realizing her attitude was less mysterious and annoying to him than when he first met her. "But even though your father's death was avenged, it has not changed the fact that the world is still a wretched place."

Strangely enough, Nyx's smile was understanding. "I know. But while the killer's death did not erase my grief totally, I was and still am ultimately more at peace, and I can bring that peace to others and even get paid small amounts while doing it."

Returning his attention to searching for the trap's trigger, Entreri grinned to himself. "I think perhaps you are a bit of a mercenary after all."

"I certainly am not!"

Entreri snickered, taking some small pleasure in goading her, and noted a crack in the wall baseboard. He had found the trigger. "Are you sure? Tai said some assassins follow Hoar."

A resounding sigh echoed through the hall. "Well, yeah. That's true. But I'm not in it for the money—I just need to be able to eat."

A million nasty little goads sprang to Entreri's mind as he disarmed the trap. Maybe a touch of verbal sparing would make this mundane task less boring. "Oh, really?" he began, and he swore he could feel her fighting spirit kindling behind him. It could make for an interesting argument.

* * *

Melcer slammed open Lander's office door without knocking. "That damn priest is losing it!"

Lander glanced up from the orders he was writing to their best spies. "Losing it?" He took in the sight of his twin's reddened cheeks and the hair strands escaping from his usually perfect ponytail. "In what way?"

Banging the door shut behind him, Melcer raced to his brother's desk. "I mean that—"

A crack thundered through the fortress, causing the entire structure to shudder, and a deep howl followed. Lander jumped to his feet as his ink bottle spilt and the chandelier swayed overhead. "What in the nine hells!"

Melcer cringed. "I mean that Darvin has lost control of the horde. He doesn't seem to have the mental strength, or maybe the willpower, to make them obey. Some of them are headed toward Loudwater or out over the forest, but the main force is—"

A boom reverberated through the thick walls, followed by the sound of falling stone and distant screams. The castle vibrated as though hit by an earthquake, and several books fell from Lander's bookcase.

"Here?" Lander asked, feeling the blood drain from his face. His hands and chest grew cold. "The main force of the horde is attacking here?"

With exasperation, Melcer crammed his fingers into his hair, pulling more strands out of his ponytail. "Their last order was to attack the intruders _outside_ our castle, so left to their own devices they're just attacking us."

Lander sank into his chair as the fortress shook again. With a dull gaze, he watched a picture fall from the wall and a bottle of wine tip off his desk and shatter. All his plans and stratagems fled his mind, leaving him to give his brother an imploring gaze. "What do we do to stop this?"

Melcer looked tired, old, sad. "According to our cleric, Bane says the clue we had was correct. All the monsters will be sucked back into their dimension if we close the summoning portal, and what opens the portal will close it."

"The girl's blood." Lander closed his eyes, trying to pull himself together. "Right. Give the order immediately. Scry for her, then teleport our soldiers to her location. Have them return her to the portal and kill her there. And hurry!"

Melcer nodded. "As you wish.

Lander stood and grabbed his sword. "I will lead the remaining soldiers in defense of our home."

"And I will tell that idiot priest to keep trying to bring the horde under control," Melcer replied before dashing from the office.

Lander stared after him. "I doubt that particular route of action will have any effect," he muttered to himself, and he wondered for the first time if following his family's dreams had been a mistake.

* * *

_A/N: As always, I thank my returning—and new!—reviewers. Support from my readers helps me to keep going._


	5. Revelation

**Chapter Five: Revelation **

Darvin slammed both fists into the Calimshite rug which surrounded him. "I'm getting nowhere! Nowhere!"

"Maintain concentration," Melcer said from his jade worktable. He bent over his scrying bowl and frowned as the room shook. "If you don't keep trying, everyone will die."

Darvin wondered why Melcer couldn't do something more helpful than magically watch the monsters attack. "Aren't you going to help defend the castle?"

Dark brown eyes met his gaze, and for a moment, rage flickered over the wizard's expression. "Of course I am." He snatched back the arms of his navy robe and grabbed a spell book. "You do your job, and I'll do mine."

"Fine, fine," Darvin said, internally amused to have irritated the wizard who had seemed so unflappable to him.

Melcer scoffed at him, then stalked toward the door and left.

"Good." Darvin closed his eyes again and reached outward with his mind, almost as though he were communing. He could see a red line in his mental landscape—a tether to a crimson mist that represented the horde's collective minds. The mist was breaking into three clouds, and the priest sensed one group was headed toward Loudwater and another across the forest. The rest hovered around the castle.

Darvin felt a momentary pang over his hometown being attacked, but the only family he had left was his grandfather, who was an accomplished ranger and still fought well. The only other person he loved was in the forest, but according to Melcer's scrying, the monsters were moving away from her.

"Miri," he murmured, pouring his concentration into the mind-link. "I will not let them harm you." He might feel little worry for Loudwater and less for the castle, despite his being there, but the one person he wanted to protect he would save at any cost.

"Help me, Hoar," he prayed, trying once again to marshal control over the red mist, to reign in the horde. However, the longer he worked, the weaker he felt, almost as though his very soul were being drained by the effort. Darvin wasn't sure what that portended, but he didn't have time to ponder it. He couldn't afford to rest until he'd succeeded in his mission.

* * *

Jarlaxle leaned against the wall, his arms and ankles crossed, and waited for his companions in the agreed-upon location. He stared at the hall's mural. He stared at the scalloped molding running around the ceiling edges. He stared at the crimson tile floor.

Finally he lost his usually inexhaustible patience.

"Humans," he muttered to himself, heading down the hall. They were five minutes late, and for someone as punctual as Entreri, that could only mean trouble. So picking his way through the impressive collection of disarmed traps, Jarlaxle sought out the man.

Ducking through a sprung blade trap and noting the absence of blood, Jarlaxle began to wonder if Entreri had just faced more traps than he had. However, his acute drow hearing begin to pick up raised voices.

_A fight?_ Jarlaxle wondered, increasing up his pace. However, when he reached a turn the hallway, he realized the voices belonged to his companions. He halted at the corner and peeked around, finding the humans squared off in front of a closed door.

Entreri glared at Nyx.

Nyx glared at Entreri.

"I don't know why in the nine hells I'm bothering to have this conversation with you," she snapped. "You're as stubborn as five mules and an old dwarf!"

Entreri had defaulted into his cool, deadly demeanor. "You may call it stubborn if you like—I call it common sense. Or intelligence."

Nyx leaned into his face. "Are you implying I'm a fool?"

"Anyone who leans into my face is a fool."

Jarlaxle quickly assessed Entreri's body language, trying to determine if the monk were going to die, but the man's shoulders and stance were relaxed. In fact, his arms were crossed normally and not in the way he usually employed when secretly reaching for his weapons. The drow pondered this for a moment, then realized Entreri was _bluffing_.

_Bluffing?_ Jarlaxle thought, shocked. Was he actually having _fun_?

Nyx stepped toe-to-toe with Entreri and glowered at him. "And with that insult, I'm sure you're implying I'd be terribly easy to kill. I assure you, I'll give as good as I get."

Entreri narrowed his eyes. "Precisely the only reason why you are not already dead."

A look of confusion passed across Nyx's otherwise angry expression. "Because I'd be difficult to kill?"

"Because you are worth fighting fairly," Entreri corrected with a small smirk, "instead of being stabbed in the back."

Nyx snorted, her glare tempered by what seemed to be cynical humor. "Oh! I'm so very complimented," she said sarcastically.

"You should be," Entreri replied, his smirk turning into a smug smile.

"You jerk!" Nyx leaned forward until her nose was less than an inch from Entreri's. "I . . . should . . ."

Her words were faltering, Jarlaxle realized, and Entreri had a singularly odd look on his face, as though he suspected he were about to be kissed but couldn't quite believe it—or decide what he thought of it.

Perhaps now was not the best time for Entreri to learn what he really thought of Nyx. Jarlaxle stepped around the corner, swallowing the urge to burst into laughter, and called to them. "Did the great Artemis Entreri have trouble?" the drow said, flicking the edge of his purple hat, pushing it back from his face by a half-inch. "I would have never imagined it."

Nyx jumped and pinned the drow with a look that clearly said _How-dare-you-interrupt-me._ Jarlaxle couldn't hold back a chuckle. The little minx of a human had been enjoying herself, too!

"Don't press your luck," Entreri said, turning to face Jarlaxle, "or you will soon be in several pieces."

"Male bonding," Nyx muttered, her eyes hooded.

Entreri glowered at her, but Jarlaxle laughed. The drow's past plans for the two humans seemed not to be an entirely lost cause. "As you say!" Jarlaxle agreed easily. "But I'm afraid I have bad news. My side of the hallway dead-ends."

"Obviously, we found a door," Nyx replied, stepping to the side and gesturing at the object in question. "But Entreri doesn't seem happy about it."

Jarlaxle raised an eyebrow at the man. "Oh?"

"It's another trap," Entreri said, crossing his arms. "The door itself isn't trapped, only locked. But I listened through the door, and I'm sure there is a cave or something similar beyond. I've heard that hollow-sounding dripping before."

Jarlaxle frowned. "If that is the only exit, I'm not sure we have much of a choice."

"It could be a cave with no outlet other than the door itself," Entreri said, "which may be impossible to open from the opposite side. And I can imagine many things the Stonars could keep in a cave."

"That's not comforting," Nyx said drily.

Jarlaxle patted his hat. "I have a way to get us out, so let's have a look."

"True," Nyx said to Entreri as Jarlaxle stepped past them. He does have that magical hole thing."

The assassin sighed. "That won't necessarily help, or in case you've forgotten, it landed us back in the maze."

Jarlaxle turned from assessing the door and started to reply, but a thud reverberated through the ceiling, followed by a rumbling that shook the entire hallway. Flakes of plaster fell from the ceiling, and the wall torches fluttered.

"What now?" Entreri glared at the ceiling as though it had mortally offended him.

"Yet another trap?" Nyx asked.

"No." Jarlaxle narrowed his uncovered eye in thought. "I very much suspect that the Stonars have been unable to keep that massive horde under control. I would bet a handful of bloodstones that what we're hearing is the sound of the monsters attacking the fortress."

"Lovely," Entreri replied, the soul of sarcasm. "Just what we needed. More danger."

Jarlaxle raised one finger. "Perhaps," he said, determined to help the assassin think positively. "But it will also keep our hosts occupied and their attention away from us."

"If you believe in best case scenarios," Entreri said.

Jarlaxle simply shook his head, then pressed his ear against the solid oak door. Faintly, he could detect a hollow dripping noise. "It does indeed sound like either a cave or other expansive area. I think—"

Shrieking pierced the ceiling, drawing all their attention, followed by several thuds and a crash.

"That didn't sound human," Nyx said, staring at the ceiling but shielding her eyes with her hand. More flakes of plaster rained upon them.

"I'm quite sure my assumption is correct," Jarlaxle replied, and he wondered if he might have no choice except to use the platinum wand. His hand inched toward one belt pouch.

The entire hallway shook, the air filling with rumbling like an earthquake. The torches flickered again, a few snuffing out, and plaster from the wall murals cracked and crumbled into the floor. The drow and two humans grabbed each other's arms, trying to stay steady.

When the shaking stopped, Nyx spoke first. "In the event of an earthquake, the best thing to do is to stand in a doorway." She nodded toward the door. "Perhaps we should pursue our original intentions."

"It's not a real earthquake," Entreri said, but he knelt and assessed the lock anyway. "I'll need almost every tool in my kit to pick the mechanism."

"Try anyway, because it has the same effect as a real earthquake." Nyx surveyed the damage with obvious concern, her brow furrowed.

"The lady has a point." Jarlaxle joined Entreri at the door. "Let's be done with this." If the accomplished thief and assassin thought the lock was that difficult to pick, magic might be the quickest solution. However, before they could begin, a tingling sensation sparked in the air, as though lightning would strike, and the three fighters glanced around the hallway.

"Now what?" Nyx asked.

A thin blue line shot downward from the ceiling, then expanded into a glittery shine. A low hum filled the hallway and grew progressively lower.

Jarlaxle recognized the sight immediately. "Something has touched the caste walls and is being teleported in here. Probably the same way we were."

Entreri stood and drew his sword, and Nyx grabbed her nunchuku. Suspecting the worst in this situation, given the way the monsters were hitting the fortress, Jarlaxle dropped a dagger into his hand from his bracer. The glow vanished, and before them stood a creature with the upper body of a man and the lower body of a lion. It shook its head as though to steady itself, then stared at them with red eyes.

"A lamia?" Jarlaxle didn't relish fighting anything that could drain his intelligence out of his brain with a mere touch. "Don't let it touch you!" He turned the door, retrieved his black felt disc, and threw it against the wood. It simply fell to the floor. "Damn!"

Entreri drew his vampiric dagger, and the lamia drew two daggers of its own. "They have spell-like abilities," he whispered to Nyx, "especially for enchantments."

"A monk of my rank is quite resistant to enchantment," Nyx replied, twirling her nunchuku in one hand and drawing shuriken with the other.

The lamia sneered. "Not resistant enough, I'm sure," it growled, its voice low and gravelly.

Realizing they didn't have time to stop and fight the lamia, Jarlaxle snatched up his dimensional hole and pulled out his ebony wand instead, pointing and firing it at the door lock.

Entreri whirled toward him and grabbed his arm. "No! Jarl—" he began.

Jarlaxle felt a jerking sensation that made his stomach drop out, and suddenly he found himself and Entreri in a cave.

* * *

Suddenly, Entreri found himself and the drow on the other side of the door. "—axle," he finished, then glowered at his partner. It was this kind of outcome he had wanted to avoid. "That was stupid! Now Nyx has to face that thing by herself."

Jarlaxle frowned. "That wasn't the effect I was expecting." A small smile bent his lips. "Although if you're that concerned about her, I might be able to pair you two together after all."

Entreri leveled his sword, the point only an inch from the drow's neck. "Not funny. Besides, she's unlikely to survive."

Jarlaxle held up both hands in mock surrender. "Don't underestimate her. Besides, your life is—and should be—more than killing."

"If my life is more than killing, your life is more than acquisition," Entreri replied, unwilling to pass up the chance to throw the barb.

Jarlaxle blinked. "I suppose I earned that one. However—"

"Drop it." Entreri pulled his sword away from the drow's neck and assessed the door and room. "No doorknob," he noted. "And it is a cave. We have to figure out how to return to the hallway immediately before Nyx ends up lion food."

Although light filtered in from a point high in the ceiling, Jarlaxle's uncovered eye glinted as his night vision kicked in. "There is probably a release mechanism somewhere in this small cave. At least I don't see any predators, although we should check behind the boulders. Likely, though, this room is a fake cave with traps. We'll have to work carefully but quickly to find the lever."

"Which is likely in the farthest corner." With a sigh, Entreri tested the floor with the tip of his sword.

A click emanated from the opposite side of the cave and echoed through the room. Jarlaxle stepped toward the sound. "I may have spoken too soon about there being no predators."

"Don't move!" Entreri ordered, but it was too late. The entire center of the floor gave away, crumbling under Jarlaxle's feet.

Entreri stabbed his enchanted blade into the stone floor and snatched for Jarlaxle's wrist as the drow fell. Jarlaxle grasped his wrist in return as his body thudded against the pit's wall. For several moments, they stared into the black depth beyond the drow's feet, and after a long pause, they heard the stones hitting the bottom.

"A long way down," Jarlaxle murmured.

"You and your damn pit traps," Entreri said. "Can you levitate, or do I have to pull you up?"

Jarlaxle felt for and found a handhold. "You'll have to help me out. It must be similar to the previous trap."

Resigned to his fate as a drow-keeper, Entreri hoisted Jarlaxle up, and they both rested on the pit's edge. "Great. Now we can't even reach the lever, assuming there was one." He pointed to the sides of the room where the entire floor had fallen. "There are no ledges, and it's too far to jump." He looked upward. "Plus there is nothing but a smooth domed ceiling above us—nothing to attach a rope to so I could swing across."

Growling sounds filtered through the door, and the mercenaries glanced over their shoulders at the solid oak.

"I need an axe," Entreri muttered.

Jarlaxle drew a solid platinum wand from his belt pouch. "I might have another way."

The drow's tone was unusually grim. Entreri watched at him with suspicion. "What's the catch?"

One glowing red eye met the assassin's gaze. "There is some chance it could make things worse. Much worse."

Entreri turned his stare upon the wand, which glinted faintly in the dim light. "How do I let you get me into these situations?"

* * *

Miri opened her eyes and gazed at Tai. Between his widened eyes and furrowed brow, she could tell he was worried.

He had every right to be, but he couldn't know it.

"You're deathly pale," Tai whispered, kneeling by her. "What did Eldath say?

Miri knew she could never tell him the whole truth. He was too kind-hearted to accept it. "She said there is indeed a way to balance nature and completely remove all the monsters from our world."

"Remove them!" Tai sheathed his magical dagger and grasped both her hands in his. "That was more than I hoped for. I thought the best we'd be able to do was close the portal and then try to hunt down and kill those monsters that were already here."

She squeezed his hands, reveling in their warmth. Her entire body felt chilled. "No . . . they will be drawn back into their dimension. But we must go to the portal at once." She smiled, trying to hide her despair. _I must go to the portal and offer my blood to close it. I will return there to die._ "Apparently the prophecy always implied I could stop this madness. 'To damn or save the world.' But Eldath said to move quickly; the Stonars are pursuing me again."

Tai's eyes narrowed. "I won't let them hurt you now any more than I allowed it the first time. And this time there is no third person to calculate into our plans."

"Yes." Miri released his hands, grabbed her short spear, and stood. "There shouldn't be anything to stop our victory, so let's not waste any time." She began walking in the general direction of the portal, hoping Tai wouldn't ask for details and preparing to lie if he did. She couldn't let even Tai stop her.

"Agreed." Tai followed her without pause, his footsteps quiet on the forest trail.

Miri listened to his footsteps, the rustling leaves, the gurgling stream in the distance. She watched sunlight filter through the forest canopy and dapple the grass with shifting light. The spicy scent of pines, the perfume of wildflowers . . . she burned it into her memory and hoped that the afterlife would contain equally beautiful and soothing things.

_A life for a life,_ she consoled herself. _Dead animals decompose and fertilize the ground, which produces plants that insects and small animals eat. They in turn become the food for larger animals, who die and return to the earth. It's the cycle of life._

_And I have one final chance to make my life—or death—helpful._

_

* * *

  
_

A/N: Thank you, once again, to everyone who is reviewing! I really appreciate all the support and encouragement.


	6. To Save the World

**Chapter Six: To Save the World . . . **

Jarlaxle turned the platinum wand in his hand, causing the dim light to glint off it. "Like I said, this could make things worse instead of better."

Entreri watched him with a frown, overcome with a sense of foreboding. "What does it do?"

Jarlaxle stood and walked to the far right of the pit's ledge. "Simply put, it unleashes an attack several hundred times more powerful than a fireball."

"Several hundred?" Entreri climbed to his feet and followed the drow. "Wouldn't you risk bringing the ceiling down upon us?"

Jarlaxle gestured for Entreri to stand behind him, then pointed the wand diagonally at the room's upper corner. "Hence the danger. However, if I slant the blast, I should tear through the wall separating us from Nyx, the ceiling in the corner opposite ours, and create an opening on the floor above us—all hopefully without damaging a support pillar."

"I see your plan," the assassin said, visually following the angle of Jarlaxle's arm. "You're betting the force of the blast will blow the rubble away from us, and what peripheral damage you cause you hope will fall into the pit." Entreri had to admit it seemed logical, but he still felt impending doom. "You and your ridiculously powerful magical items! But I suppose I can't argue since we don't have time. And neither does Nyx."

Jarlaxle glanced over his shoulder and smiled. "No, my friend, we don't."

The memory of that smile would remain etched in Entreri's mind forever. The white teeth, the twinkle in the red eye, and even the stupid purple hat and its oversized feather. "Very well."

Facing forward again, Jarlaxle spoke a single word: "_Sut._"

The wand unleashed a brilliant yellow-white flash, like the sun had exploded, and caused Entreri to yell and throw up his arm. The deafening _boom_ that shook the fake cave seemed to rattle the assassin's lungs, making him cough as he was knocked to his knees. For a moment, Entreri saw and heard nothing, then his ears rang and he inhaled dust. Through the chaos, his aching ears detected the sound of falling rubble, and suddenly Jarlaxle slammed into him, flattening him onto the stone ledge. Entreri cried out, all his senses confused: a beam of light, grey dust, a stone piercing his leather pants and cutting his left leg, and most of all, a series of dull thuds raining on the body atop his and reverberating through his chest.

All was still.

Slowly, Entreri opened his eyes and found a bald head buried at the junction between his neck and shoulder. Something wet was dripping onto his collarbone. "Jarlaxle?" His vision seemed to expand, his senses recovering, and he realized a mass of stones and rubble covered Jarlaxle's shoulders and back, and the drow wasn't moving. "Jarlaxle!"

The drow stirred faintly but didn't raise his head. "I . . . seem to have . . . miscalculated."

Entreri freed one arm and began picking stones off Jarlaxle and hurling them into the pit. "Hold on." An unfamiliar emotion burned in his chest, an urgency he didn't recognize. In the light pouring through the enormous hole in the ceiling, the assassin could see blood oozing through Jarlaxle's cape. "What happened?"

The drow managed to lift his head and meet Entreri's gaze, but his uncovered eye seemed unfocused. He gave the man a lopsided grin. "I . . . underestimated . . . a few of my . . . defensive items." As though he'd spent all his energy, he thunked his head back onto Entreri's chest.

"Fool!" The assassin felt a confusing mix of emotions, including anger, worry, fear, care, and something he didn't recognize. Jarlaxle had physically shielded him and gotten hurt in the process! "Don't move. And keep talking to me."

A weak chuckle met this order. "Me? Stop . . . talking?"

Entreri freed his other arm and began tossing stones with both hands. At least the drow still had his sense of humor. "You put too much faith in those trinkets of yours and maybe also in Kimmuriel's abilities." Seeing the red blooming across Jarlaxle's cape, he increased his speed.

"In this case . . . you may be right."

Entreri felt more wetness against his collarbone. The drow had to be bleeding out the mouth. The only question was how much of it was internal bleeding and how much was a wound to the lips or tongue. "All right," he said, throwing off the final stone. "You're—we're—free. Can you handle it if I rolled us over?"

"Yes." The voice was weak.

Unsure of the wisdom of his decision but seeing no other option, Entreri rolled toward the wall and carefully laid Jarlaxle on his back. The drow grinned at him, his teeth covered in blood.

"You . . . waited all this time . . . to watch me . . . make a mistake." Jarlaxle winked, but the movement was slow, sluggish. "Got your wish."

"Quiet!" Entreri felt inexplicably angry. "I've watched you make several mistakes." He yanked open the drow's dimensional pouch and pulled out the healing orb. "Just stay awake." He held the orb over Jarlaxle's body and invoked the enchantment, causing the orb to glow purple.

"_Ussta abbil,_" Jarlaxle murmured, then passed out.

Entreri's brain scrambled to translate. "My trusted friend," he repeated, staring at the drow. He wasn't sure which part shocked him more: his surprise over Jarlaxle's loyalty or his inclination to take that loyalty for granted. Sure, Jarlaxle had covered his back before—once quite literally when he had been attacked by Socor—but never had the elf truly endangered himself for his friend. In fact, Jarlaxle had likely never been injured for the sake of another.

The unnamable emotion that kicked Entreri in the chest was so powerful the assassin couldn't breathe. Marshalling his formidable concentration and willpower, he closed his eyes and funneled all his mental energy into the orb, demanding that it heal Jarlaxle, and quickly.

After the longest five minutes of Entreri's life, he heard a faint gasp and opened his eyes. Jarlaxle stared back at him, and the assassin found himself deeply relieved.

"A-Artemis?" Jarlaxle reached up and touched his own chest, apparently checking for injuries. "Well . . . done. I can breathe . . . more easily now."

An ominous rumble passed through the cave. "Not good," Entreri said, stowing the orb back in Jarlaxle's pouch. "I think your wand did more harm than good."

The drow's complexion was more ashen than ebony, but his uncovered eye looked clear and focused. "Either the wand was more powerful than I thought, or I hit—"

With a crack, half the ledge gave away.

* * *

Nyx watched the lamia's fanged smile at the sight of her companions being teleported out of the room. She crouched slightly, bending her knees, lowering herself into a battle stance, and swung her nunchuku before her.

Gleaming red eyes in an otherwise handsome male face watched her with amusement. "I am teleported in, they are teleported out . . ." His grin widened, showing a mouth of pointed teeth. Behind him, his lion tail flicked with agitation. "I think this could not be better." He spun the daggers in his hands until the blades pointed backward along his forearms. "I can smell the good on you, wretched creature. That sickening-sweet desire to Do Good." He smirked. "Allow me to—"

A flash seemed to explode across Nyx's vision, and she lost the rest of his words. A spell, then? An enchantment aimed to create an illusion? She had suffered her fill of illusions already. She closed her eyes, pushing her ki through her body, channeling her chakra, and raising the shields of her mind. Then she listened. Felt. Sensed the swoosh of air as the lamia closed in upon her.

Nyx snapped open her eyes, grinned, and swung the nunchuku outward in a **Z** pattern, slamming aside the lamia's dagger as he passed, striking his ribs, and even hitting his hip as he scrambled to turn. The sound of the wood against his chest was solid; a rib had been cracked. She whirled the nunchuku before her body as she faced him.

The lamia tossed his long, dark hair as though shaking his mane out of his face. "Lucky, monk." He stowed one dagger and cracked his fingers as he crooked them. "But you will not last long."

_Don't let it touch you,_ Nyx thought, the warning echoing through her mind. What was it about these creatures? Something about losing one's will to fight or to think clearly? She didn't want to find out.

The click of claws on the tile floor caused Nyx to focus on the lamia as he slinked toward her. Just like a lion on a tundra, crouching and weaving his way through the tall grasses toward zebras or gazelles that knew not their danger.

But the hallway had no grass, and Nyx understood her peril. She kept her nunchuku whirling in one hand and drew shuriken with the other. When she made her move, so did the lamia, charging her, reaching out for her, determined to touch her skin. Nyx ran forward as well, then jumped sideways, slamming her feet into the wall and vaulting diagonally over the lamia as he passed underneath her. She rained three shuriken down his spine before landing near the door again.

The beast skidded to a stop and glared at her. A silver glow tainted the rims of those crimson eyes, and he pulled back his upper lip, revealing his fangs. "You test my patience, human." The muscles in his four lion's legs rippled as he crouched. "In a space this small, you cannot evade my touch forever, and I will eat the meat off your thigh bones."

A shiver raced up Nyx's spine like a million icy ants, but her reaction had nothing to do with the threat. Cruel words she was used to. No, she sensed something behind the door—magic. Powerful magic. She needed to get away from the door and lure the lamia toward it. "Then come and get me, if you can." She grinned at him, pretending he was far beneath her—a bug to be squashed.

The lamia roared and charged again, leading with its dagger, trying to keep her attention on the weapon and off his bare hand—the one that would do the more damage. Nyx followed the teachings beaten into her through years of practice: assess the stance, the threat, the leg and arm movements, and the direction of the eyes. Never focus solely on the weapon.

Pooling her ki into her feet, she dashed forward as well, stomping the floor as he neared and discharging her ki strike into the tile, sending herself arching over his head. Although caught off guard, he swung upward with his dagger, cutting her leg as she sailed past and tucked herself into a forward roll.

Using her momentum, Nyx allowed the roll to swing her to her feet. Her left leg stung from the gash, but at least it had been the dagger and not his bare hand. Still, she felt a touch woozy for a reason she couldn't name. Had his magical power come through the dagger? Was she losing blood quickly? Or the magic from the other side of the door . . .

The lamia popped his neck as he turned to face her again, his tail thumping idly against the oak door. "At least you don't cry and whine, human." He snickered. "But you will scream before I am through."

Nyx stowed her nunchuku and unsheathed her kukri, deciding to face him blades-to-blades. For the longest moment of her life, she saw the lamia's leg muscles contract, his paws push off the floor, saw his mouth open with a roar, his blade flashing in the torchlight . . .

And then a star seemed to explode through the door—flying wood and stone, chips of plaster and tile, and a blast of air strong enough to slam Nyx off her feet and toss her down the hallway like an empty potato sack.

With a grunt, she landed on the floor, both feeling and hearing her skull crack against the tile, but before she fainted, she heard the lamia scream.

* * *

A cross bolt whizzed past Tai's ear, and he yelped "They're catching up!"

Miri didn't even glance back at him. Her blonde hair streamed behind her as she ran. "I know," she replied. "But we're almost there."

Tai skidded to a stop and turned toward their pursuers, determined to slow them. He held his hands before his face, forming a triangle with his fingers. "By the power of Hoar, I command mist to arise."

Instantly, a thick fog enveloped the area, causing shouts of alarm from the Zhent soldiers. The mist was thick enough to obscure all but extremely close-range vision, and Tai grinned as he heard several _thumps_ of men running into trees.

Satisfied that he had bought them some time, Tai quietly turned and used his utmost stealth to catch up with Miri. As he drew near her side, she frowned.

"Good," she whispered, "but that won't delay them for long."

Tai's brow furrowed. She'd been grim ever since communing with Eldath. Grim and determined. "I know," he replied, keeping his voice low. "But as long as we can delay them until we reach the portal, we should be fine."

Miri weaved through the trees, hurdling over fallen trunks and ducking under branches with the grace of a fleeing deer. Tai struggled to keep up with her. "I hope you're right," she said. "Too much rides on this."

Tai couldn't shake the feeling that she was withholding information. "Why . . . what did Eldath say to do?"

Miri burst through another patch of trees, Tai close behind her, then they both halted abruptly at the sight beyond: a massive crimson vortex, some twenty feet in diameter, burrowed through the forest floor like a whirlpool. Even as they watched, a young black dragon emerged from the center, flapping its massive wings furiously as it broke away from the vortex's wind storm and then streaked across the cloudy sky.

_Storm clouds,_ Tai thought absently, stunned by the sight. Above the vortex, acting almost like a mirror, were a bank of bruised clouds, roiling black and green. Crimson lightning flashed upward from the vortex and pierced the clouds, and the surrounding trees groaned as they were blown backward, revealing the silvery undersides of their leaves.

"Don't let the soldiers interfere," Miri said, her voice flat. She stared at the vortex as though it were her aborted fetus or the combusted corpse of a pet dog rotting in the street. Her eyes were tired. Lifeless. Beyond pain.

"Miri?" Tai stepped forward and squeezed her arm. "What did Eldath tell you to do?"

But the instant he dared to ask the question, he knew the answer. In his mind, he saw Edwin Garner, the man they'd met during their battle in Withey Township, and remembered the message Helm had him to deliver to them: _"It is most always about blood, for blood is bound to both life and death. The spilling of blood is a symbol and a sacrament, a simulacrum for worlds to come. The spilling of blood is a revelation and a fulfillment. You cannot hope to move the worlds or touch the divine without blood."_

Tai blinked and stared at Miri's somber face, the set line of her mouth, her clenched jaw, her narrowed eyes. "So it was a premonition," he whispered, horrified. "A prophecy, a—" He shook his head. "No!" He grabbed both her arms and turned her to face him. "You do not have to sacrifice yourself this way. We will find another answer."

"We don't have time." Miri's voice was low. Dead. She seemed to look through him instead of at him. "My blood can 'damn or save,' remember? The damn part is already upon us. Now it is time to save." She aimed the tip of her short spear at her throat, and Tai grabbed her wrist, pulling it downward.

"No. We will find another way." Tai shook her gently, trying to snap her out of her lifeless daze. However, another cross bolt whizzed past him, grazing his forehead as it passed. "Damn it!" He released Miri and turned to face the oncoming soldiers. "Don't do anything radical!" he told her, then unsheathed his vorpal dagger.

The first soldier burst from the mist and into the clearing, and Tai whirled, crouching and slamming his dagger straight into the man's chest as the sight of the vortex distracted him. From the corner of his vision, Tai could see Miri shift into her leopard form and slash her claws at the second soldier who rushed out of the tree line.

Tai gathered Hoar's divine power into his hand then listened carefully. To his left—yes. The sound of snapping twigs, the rustle of footsteps. Tai pressed himself against a tree, and as the Zhent emerged, Tai merely touched his chest; however, huge gashes ripped across the man's jacket and skin, and he fell to the ground screaming and gushing blood.

Hoping that Miri's willingness to fight meant that she would wait for him, Tai sneaked into the mist, silently weaving through the trees and focusing on his hearing to locate his prey. A dark form loomed ahead of him, merely three feet away and crouched behind a tree. Tai slipped forward and buried his dagger into the man's back, simultaneously electrocuting him with the blade's power. He gurgled once, a choked scream, then fell face-forward upon the ground.

Tai grinned, feeling assured that the world would be temporarily a better place for the loss of several Zhent agents. Retracing his path, he picked his way through the deepening gloom and mist, narrowing his eyes as he searched for another target. From several yards away, growling and roaring mixed with human screams, and Tai felt sure Miri was holding her own.

Five more feet, and he detected a shadow hovering on a low tree branch. Smirking, he sneaked up behind the man, whispered a prayer, and reached up, touching the man's leg. The man screamed as he found himself suddenly blind and fell from the tree. Tai jumped atop the man when he hit the ground and drove his dagger through his heart. The Zhent tried to inhale, only to choke and spit up blood.

"Justice has been served," Tai murmured, then jumped up and raced back to Miri, wanting to assure she was okay. What he found, however, was a bloody-mouthed leopard sitting among three Zhent corpses.

"I see you needed no assistance," Tai said, turning away as she transformed back into her human form and pulled on her clothes.

"You may look," she whispered.

Tai faced her and stared at the sight of her pale blonde hair and white clothes against the backdrop of the crimson vortex. The red light shone upon her cape like a sheen of blood.

"You know I have to do this," she said, staring at her feet.

"No! Don't sacrifice yourself." Tai reached out towards her. "Like I said, we will find another way to stop this."

"We don't have time," Miri replied. "And you would do the same thing in my place."

Tai had a mental flash of himself calling upon divine power to cast a spell against Mordecai and having his heart stop as a result. "I don't want you to do what I did. Besides, you said you would find a way to beat that prophecy! To prove yourself through your living actions?"

"Who am I to be?" Miri stepped back through the vortex, raising her spear. "The woman who destroys the world to make her point?" She put the dagger blade against her neck, and when Tai tried to step toward her, she applied pressure, drawing a drop of blood. "Life is always about power—who has it and who wants it, who can never have it and who believes they have it when they really don't. Perhaps I really could have it, but I'm not selfish enough to destroy the world trying." She sliced through her artery, severing the blood vessel that sustained her life. Blood sprayed forth, splattering across her face, shoulder, arm, and the ground.

Tai raced toward her. "No! Miri!"

* * *

As the ledge gave way, Entreri grabbed for a handhold and gritted his teeth as his fingers scratched against the rough stone, but he ignored the pain and reached for Jarlaxle's wrist. Fortunately, the drow grasped for him as well, and he caught the Jarlaxle before he could fall further. "Damn it," Entreri hissed. His hand was slipping. "Can you find a foothold or handhold?"

Jarlaxle merely grunted in response, but he shifted and moments later, some of the weight on Entreri's arm relaxed. Certain that Jarlaxle had secured his position, Entreri felt along the pit wall until he had two solid footholds as well. However, he never released Jarlaxle's wrist.

Finally situated, Entreri dared to glance at the drow, who had actually sprung a fine sweat across his brow. Around them, dust and small rocks crumbled, and a tremor ran through the cave. Entreri met and held Jarlaxle's gaze. For once, the assassin felt a damning certainty that they would both die—and a certainty that since they would die, Nyx and Tai would also. Jarlaxle appeared just as grave, and he rotated his wrist so he could squeeze Entreri's wrist in return. Entreri paused, but the sincerity in the drow's solemn gaze dismissed his reservations. He grasped Jarlaxle's wrist more tightly, offering and receiving what comfort he could.

"When I said my wand could make matters worse," Jarlaxle said, a faint smile playing upon his lips, "I didn't exactly imagine this."

Entreri snorted. "Do you ever?" However, in his heart he knew that he and Jarlaxle alike were born survivors, cheaters of death and destiny who defied anyone or anything that promised their doom.

"We must circumvent this problem," Jarlaxle said, glancing up at the ledge.

Entreri tightened his grasp on the drow's wrist briefly, then let go. "We will."

Carefully, one small handhold and foothold at a time, they climbed to the edge and crawled over, then collapsed against the remains of the narrow ledge.

"I've been in better situations," Jarlaxle remarked lightly. "And worse."

Entreri nodded, but he was distracted by the absence of sound in the hallway beyond. "We will pull through." He sat up and glanced at the hole in the wall and ceiling. "I think I can reach Nyx now—if she wasn't killed in your blast." He frowned.

"Be careful," Jarlaxle whispered, "lest the lamia cast an illusion for you and enchant you."

Entreri squeezed his right hand, where his magic-redirecting glove remained. "I may no longer have Charon's Claw, but I still have this. Besides, I am not easily to enchant."

Jarlaxle chuckled. "I suppose not."

With a snort, Entreri reached for Jarlaxle's shoulder, but when he noticed the blood there, he grasped his hand instead, squeezing tightly and wordlessly. Jarlaxle's returning smile was oddly faint and unsure, which Entreri understood all too well.

"Rest here," the assassin whispered. "I'll get Nyx."

Jarlaxle nodded, and Entreri released his hand and stood, wasting no time climbing through the hole.

Glancing down the hallway, the assassin saw Nyx collapsed against the tile several yards away. Directly beneath him, buried under rubble, was a silent but squirming lamia.

The half-lion glared up at Entreri, a silver flash racing across its red eyes. The assassin held up his glove, shielding himself from any spell the creature might cast.

"Come near me, human," it growled, "and I will leave you slobbering on the floor like a fool and possessed of the senses of a toddler."

Entreri smirked and drew his sword. "In your condition, it's useless to level threats."

The lamia roared at him, but Entreri drove the sword through the back of its neck, severing its spinal cord instantly. "Try to give me more of a challenge next time," he muttered, hopping off the rocks and heading toward Nyx.

The monk blinked her eyes several times as Entreri knelt by her. "Wha...?"

She narrowed her eyes, as though trying to focus, and the assassin saw a thin line of blood racing down her scalp. "Take it easy," he said as she slowly sat up.

"What . . . was that blast?" she mumbled as Entreri felt her skull for damage.

"Jarlaxle," the assassin replied simply, figuring that's all the explanation she'd need to understand the disaster. She had a large knot on the back of her head, but he didn't sense anything worse. "You ought to have a wonderful headache for awhile, but you're basically not hurt."

Nyx glanced at her leg, and Entreri frowned as he saw the gash there. "I did learn biofeedback," she said. "I can heal myself."

"We may not have that much time." Entreri pulled a roll of bandages from one of his belt pouches and bound her wound. "Besides, Jarlaxle is hurt, too."

"Again?"

For all the world, the woman actually sounded like she cared. Entreri raised an eyebrow at her, taking in her ghostly pale complexion. "Yes, again." He stood and helped her to her feet. "He has a healing orb on him, so you two can take turns healing each other."

"Very well," She murmured, following him as he headed toward the hole in the wall, his hand under her arm for support. "And thank you."

"I don't need any thanks," Entreri replied, but he helped her over the rubble and onto the ledge all the same.

Jarlaxle was propped against the door. "What a fine team we make," he said, smiling.

Nyx knelt by him. "You look how I feel." She smirked. "And trust me when I say I don't feel good."

Jarlaxle feigned exasperation, only to end up coughing his way through a chuckle. "Well, we're not helpless here."

Entreri watched the two as they sized up each other's injuries. "You're not helpless," he agreed, "but you're not ready to fight, either. I'm going to head up. You two follow me as soon as you can."

Nyx glanced up at him, her eyes wide. "You can't! You have no idea what you'll—"

Entreri ignored her protests and climbed up the jagged wall, pulling himself through the hole in the ceiling and struggling onto his feet. He glanced around the room—a marble foyer with an expansive, curved, **Y**-shaped staircase and massive gem-studded chandeliers. Suspicious, he glanced across the foyer and saw a door—the same door he, Jarlaxle, and Nyx had rushed through to escape the attacking books.

"So I've returned," he whispered to himself.

"Yes, you have," a cold voice answered from behind him.

Entreri spun to face his opponent, and Lander Melcer, his sleek black ponytail fallen around his shoulders, glared back at him. A cut graced his cheekbone, and his clothes were ripped at the elbows and knees. The hands that held his broadsword sported bloodied knuckles.

"I see you are worse for wear," Entreri remarked casually, unsheathing his vampiric dagger and poisonous sword.

Lander's dark eyes narrowed, and when he spoke, his voice rasped with anger. "What the hell did you do to my home!"

"The same thing I will do to you," Entreri replied, taking his stance. "I destroyed it."

Lander yelled and charged, swinging his sword high.

* * *

_A/N: So, I'm very, very ill. And I took to much OTC medicine, so now I'm sick AND stoned. I hope this chapter came out okay, because basically I don't know my name right now. Anyway, thank you to Chi for betareading this chapter for me! I shudder to think of what would have happened without your help.  
_

_Sorry this story hasn't had as many fight scenes as usual. They slow me down, and I didn't want to lose momentum. Thank you once again to all my reviewers. I appreciate your continued support, especially now that I'm sick._


	7. The Meaning of Love

_A/N: Sorry for the delay, guys. I got really sick, and now I'm really behind with my work this semester. I would have liked to write a much longer chapter than this, but at least I got across what I wanted to say. So without further ado, I will finish my series._

_

* * *

  
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**Chapter Seven: The Meaning of Love**

Entreri blocked Lander's initial downward swing, and then he and Lander circled each other, gazes locked. They assessed one another through a thousand unconscious cues such as body posture, sword angle, movement speed, and breathing pattern. Lander's dark eyes glinted with hate and the need for revenge, while Entreri felt nothing but the calmness and coolness fighting brought him.

Apparently losing his patience, Lander attacked first again, jerking his arms upward and swinging down once more, as though he wished to split Entreri in half. Entreri parried by locking his sword and dagger in an X pattern, catching the blade and letting the impact race through his arms as he pushed Lander backward. In that moment, during that simple block he had executed countless times in his life, Entreri realized what he was fighting for: not just to collect a bounty and not just to survive. He fought to win the lives of the injured Jarlaxle and Nyx, too.

To the assassin, the fight seemed to slow into dancing blades—a series of graceful turns and twists, stances and evasions, strikes and parries. Entreri was his sword and dagger; he was the fight. With the harmony of movement came the harmony of time: every fight he'd fought since he picked up a sword, from childhood until the present. A continuum spread itself before him, revealing endless acts of violence and murder that altered over time, bringing him to the moment he willingly fought to save others.

Lander backed away, frantically blocking the blows Entreri rained upon him, and the assassin smiled, knowing finally why he had bothered to live when spite itself was no longer enough.

"I lived to reach this moment," Entreri said aloud, watching confusion wash over Lander's rounded features, but the assassin knew he, at least, would actually die in peace if he did die. He would die sword in hand. Entreri would die understanding who he was, with his only regret not realizing the truth sooner.

Lander's back hit the wall, and Entreri's dagger shot past his defenses, nicking him in the side. The Zhent hissed, the hate burning in his gaze, and pressed forward again, only to lose his balance as the entire fortress shook.

Losing his balance as well, Entreri recovered himself and jumped clear of Lander's reach. A resounding crash echoed through the structure, and the chandelier snapped loose and crashed to the floor, causing Entreri to dive to the side of the room. A roar vibrated the air, hurting Entreri's ears and setting off alarm deep within him.

"Dragon!" he yelled, and seeing that Lander was stunned, glanced at the hole in the floor. To his relief, he saw Nyx climb out, then turn and help Jarlaxle up behind her.

Safe. They were safe.

Entreri glared back at Lander, realizing he had to finish the fight quickly. He stepped forward, knowing his posture radiated his confidence and determination, only to draw up short when Melcer teleported into the room and grasped his twin by one shoulder.

"Melcer!" Lander lowered his sword, his expression betraying his shock.

The wizard's right arm and the right side of his face were covered in burns, and blood streamed from his mouth and nose. "Dragon . . . castle lost . . . crumbling . . . must . . . leave." He slumped against his brother, who caught him around the waist.

"Melcer! Stay conscious. Melcer!" Lander's panicked voice seemed to cut through the unseen dragon's roars and the clatter of falling rumble.

Entreri held his sword and dagger in a defensive pattern, but Lander seemed to have lost interest in him. Running footsteps on the staircase drew the assassin's attention, and Entreri watched as a half dozen soldiers raced down the stairs.

"We must leave, sir!" the lead solider called as he reached Lander. "We've lost all the turrets, and the dragon has demolished the western wall. We must retreat at once or risk being buried in the ruins!" Without permission, the soldiers ran for the main doors, rushing past Entreri without even a glance.

"Retreat?" Lander whispered, his eyes wide with shock or perhaps denial.

Melcer pushed away from his brother's chest. "They're . . . right." He paused as an explosion rocked the castle and fragments of rock flew through the walls as though the stone were brittle parchment.

While Lander remained distracted, Jarlaxle and Nyx joined Entreri.

"I don't like the sound of that," Jarlaxle whispered. "I think the dragon just took down another wall. We must escape now as well."

"I will not abandon our home!" Lander's shriek drew everyone's attention. "This is our legacy. We must defend it; we must—"

Melcer cupped one hand against his brother's cheek. "Your life . . . is more important . . . than a building."

"_My_ life?" Lander repeated, his tone relaying his puzzlement, but even as he spoke, Melcer collapsed.

Nyx grabbed Entreri's upper arm, but he didn't spare a glance at her. Jarlaxle stepped close to his side, but he didn't look at him, either. His gaze was captured by the look of soul-killing pain on Lander's face.

"Melcer!" Lander dropped his broadsword and scooped up his twin's body. "You can't—don't—No!" Tears streaked down his face, accenting the grimace twisting his sallow features. Plaster rained from the ceiling, settling on the soldier's black hair and shoulders like snowflakes. "Anything . . . but this," he sobbed, but Melcer remained still, his body slumped in his brother's arms.

All the emotion bled from Lander's face, leaving him to look like a waxen doll. Without further words or pleas to the one who would not return to him, he picked up his brother's body and escaped, following the path of his soldiers. Entreri watched his retreating form, and for a moment, he imagined himself leaning over Jarlaxle, desperately focusing on the healing orb, hoping the drow wouldn't die.

Nyx released his arm and stepped up to face him. "Why didn't you kill him? You could have finished him off since his soldiers ran away."

Entreri stared out the gaping doorway, beyond which the setting sun tainted the sky crimson. He pulled a smirk to his face, curling his lip as he met Nyx's gaze. "He was too pathetic to kill."

Nyx raised an eyebrow, apparently bemused by his answer, but when Entreri's gaze slipped past her to Jarlaxle's solemn expression, the drow didn't grin or wink, laugh or snigger. In fact, he didn't look proud or satisfied, like the brilliant, calculating mercenary who always accomplished his schemes. Jarlaxle merely nodded, and something passed between them then. For the first time in the decade since Entreri had first met Jarlaxle, he felt like the drow finally comprehended him as a peer, an equal—something more than a tool, puppet, or experiment.

Jarlaxle walked toward the doorway, his signature swagger replaced by a weary limp. "Shall we escape to Loudwater, _abbil_? I doubt you wish to face a dragon, and I know Nyx and I aren't up to such an endeavor."

"Yes," Entreri replied, the simple answer all he could offer in the face of an experience that defied words.

* * *

Tai had one arm wrapped around a tree trunk and the other around Miri's waist. When Miri's blood had made contact with the portal, the magical opening had transformed into a violent whirlpool that sucked monsters, tree limbs, and leaves out of the material plain.

"Ahhhhhh, god!" Tai yelled, pleading with Hoar with all his soul to give him the strength to retain his grip on the tree and Miri at the same time. Around him, bolts of crimson lightning shot threw crimson tendrils, which looked like a spiral galaxy of magical energy had stretched its arms through the forest floor to beckon and capture the escaped creatures. Far above his head, a tornado-like funnel had appeared, channeling the monsters down into the portal. Screaming lamias, achaierai, otyughs, yrthaks, and dragons thrashed in the wind, trying to escape the magical pull, but one by one they were sucked into the whirlpool and out of the dimension.

With a sudden pressure change that caused Tai's ears to pop and then ring, the vortex collapsed on itself, spraying millions of shredded leaves into the air and leaving the forest eerily quiet. Tai hit the ground and eased his arm away from the tree as he glanced around the area.

No monsters. No evil aura.

"They're gone," Tai whispered to himself, but his panic only intensified. The young woman who had closed that portal lay against his side, features frozen in pain, face white. Tai laid her on the ground, his terror momentarily converting to rage. "You fool!" He clutched the symbol of Hoar that was sewn on his cape. "The prophecy didn't say you had to give _all_ your blood to open or close the portal!"

Tai had no more time to waste, however. He squeezed the Hoar symbol brutally and implored his god. "Please, Hoar, lend me the power! Justice is not served by her death, and you can bring her back." He knew what he was asking, and he knew the odds. However, Miri had only stopped breathing a few minutes earlier. With divine energy, with enough life-force, she could be—

Tai gasped as a burn bloomed in his chest. He looked down and saw a golden light emanate from his sternum. Trusting Hoar and not questioning what was happening, Tai put one hand on Miri's forehead and the other over her heart.

"By the power of Hoar," he said, giving himself completely to his god and his god's power, "live!" Volts and volts of energy shot down his arms from his chest, scorching his veins, but he didn't flinch. He simply watched Miri's face, having faith that she would breathe again, and allowed the life-force to pour through him. This time, his heart did not even skip a beat, and Miri's entire form glowed golden, a shimmer settling on her face like fine glitter.

Miri's eyes flew open, and she coughed abruptly, spitting up blood. Tai pulled her into a sitting position and leaned her against his chest as she coughed up more blood. Finally, she relaxed, her breath drawing even, and the golden glow seemed to sink into her skin and infuse her.

She glanced up at him and smiled, blood still streaking from the corner of her mouth. "You just . . . won't let . . . me die."

Tai shook his head. "You little fool," he murmured with exasperated affection. "You didn't have to die. The portal needed your blood, not your life."

With a snort, she buried her face against his neck. "I . . . just didn't want . . . to destroy all I loved."

Tai hugged her, knowing she would need time to think through her actions and their repercussions. Time to understand her role in the prophecy and her identity now that she was free of it.

But on the breeze, slipping past Tai's ears, came a whisper—the soft voice of a pleased god. _"Well done, my Chosen."_

With a deep gratitude that caused tears to sting his eyes, Tai relaxed into those words and their implications.

_I am yours,_ he told his god. _I leave my life in your hands._

_And that is why you are the Chosen,_ the voice answered.

Tai leaned his cheek against Miri's head and smiled, at peace to know his life would make a difference, that he would matter and all his suffering would not be in vain.

* * *

Tai waved goodbye to Mr. Brightwood and stepped onto the porch, Miri close behind him. Dawn light poured over Loudwater, revealing the scorched and damaged buildings left in the wake of the monsters' attack. Already the citizens had banded together to repair the damage, and the sounds of hammering filled the air.

Miri shut the front door behind her and smiled as Tai faced her. Although her complexion was wan, her eyes sparkled with life. "I still can't thank you enough for helping me and saving my life—twice."

Reaching out, Tai took her hand and squeezed it. "No thanks needed, I assure you." He bit his lip, uneasy with the knowledge he had to say goodbye. "What will you do now?"

Miri gestured at the rubble in the street. "I'm staying to help with the clean up, although fortunately Loudwater didn't take as much damage as I feared."

Tai nodded, wishing their paths didn't have to separate so soon. "Well, Entreri estimates that we'll be back through here in about a month, if . . .?"

She grinned. "Of course! After I finish helping here, I'm going to move in with my aunt, so I made you a map." She handed him a scroll.

Tai frowned in confusion. "Move in with your aunt? I thought she lived here, with you and your father."

"She does. Did." Miri tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. "She's inherited her mother's cottage in the forest, and since it's in a little community of Eldath worshippers, she's going to move there. She's invited me to go with her so I can spend time with other druids before I decide whether to follow Hoar or not."

"That's an excellent idea." Tai smiled. "I'll honor your decision, whichever it is."

"I know." She returned the smile.

Tai glanced away, staring down the street. Men and women worked, shoving rubble from damaged or destroyed buildings and hauling it away in carts. At the wooden house two down from Miri's, a team of carpenters repaired a hole in the porch roof. He bit his lip, watching the action and pondering what he needed to say next. Still, Hoar had given him an order. He turned back to Miri. "There is one thing that Hoar told me to say to you."

Miri raised an eyebrow. "A message from your god? Very well."

"It's about Darvin." Tai himself was unsure how to feel about the news. "Hoar said that Darvin worked to control the monsters right up to the moment he died. He was trying to save you. Hoar felt that despite the injustice Darvin served you—or perhaps because of it—you deserved to know that he did want to save you in the end."

Tears sprang to Miri's eyes, and she stared at her feet for several moments. "I . . . see." She exhaled deeply. "He was my lifelong friend, so it's comforting to know that he really did care. Even if it does make my grief over his death worse."

"And, hopefully, it will help you forgive him with time," Tai said. "You don't want to live your life angry with him."

Miri met his gaze. "You're right. That's not the kind of person I want to be."

Tai smiled and held up the map. "Very well. I'll find you when we return this way."

"You can mail me letters in the meantime," Miri replied. "Mail them here to my father's house; I'll get them."

"I will." Tai squeezed her hand once again and released it. "Until later, then." He leaned down and gave her a quick kiss, then hopped off the porch and ran toward Nyx, who awaited him on their horse. He hated extended goodbyes, especially when he believed he would, indeed, see the person again soon.

* * *

Entreri climbed atop his horse and stared down the road where Nyx hovered on her horse, which she'd be sharing with Tai. In the dawn light, her auburn hair seemed streaked with gold, and the assassin wondered why he'd never noticed before.

Jarlaxle led his horse over to Entreri's and grinned at him. "Admiring the lovely monk?"

Entreri turned a glare upon him. "Of course not. I was simply wondering if Tai would ever overcome his odd fear of horses and ships."

The drow's uncovered eye twinkled. "Ah, I see." He didn't seem convinced. "Well, I think he will as he grows older." Jarlaxle glanced Tai's direction. "By all accounts, he fought well during his battle."

Entreri snorted. "His melee skills still need work."

"Is the great Artemis Entreri up to the task?"

"What am I? His surrogate father?" Entreri smirked at the drow. "If you're so concerned, maybe I should tell Tai that 'Uncle' Jarlaxle is eager to help."

The drow laughed. "Very well. Maybe I shall."

Entreri blinked, unable to tell if Jarlaxle were joking. He seemed serious. "You are truly odd."

"Perhaps." Jarlaxle grinned and flipped back his cape, revealing the hilt of a sword. "And perhaps that is to your advantage, given that Kimmuriel was able to complete my most recent request."

Entreri stared at the sword hilt and guard, which were crafted to resemble a human skeleton. "You . . . He cannot have possibly . . ." His shock was nearly too great for words.

Jarlaxle shrugged and detached the sheath from his belt, handing over Charon's Claw. "There are few things in this world, magical or otherwise, that can be lost or destroyed that also cannot be retrieved or replaced."

Entreri accepted the sword, drawing the blade with its intricate design of reapers. "You never cease to amaze me." He had no idea how to feel, however, about the reappearance of the soul-destroying sword.

"I know, I know," Jarlaxle replied in a sing-song voice, grinning.

"Crazy drow." Unsure which sword he preferred to use, having become accustomed to the poisonous Black Widow, Entreri merely shook his head and attached the sword to his belt. He would ponder his choice later. "But tell me, what news did Kimmuriel have for you?"

Jarlaxle grew grim. "Lander Stonar escaped with his brother's body and several of his soldiers and servants, and they apparently needed further north. The Zhents have ordered Lander's execution and placed a bounty on his head."

"He won't last long, then." Entreri glanced back and saw Tai approaching Nyx and her horse. "Looks like we're ready to go." He tugged on his horse's reigns, directing the bay mare to head for the city's gates—or what was left of them after the monsters' attack.

Jarlaxle urged his black mare to follow. "You have no pity for him, then?" The drow cocked his head, shooting Entreri a sideways glance. "Did the sight of the man weeping for his dead brother not move your heart at all?"

"They brought it on themselves," Entreri replied, but in his heart he wondered what love existed that one man could so grieve for another. He glanced back at Nyx and Tai, who followed two horse-lengths behind, and wondered if they knew the answer.

"I found it all quite tragic," Jarlaxle said, waving one hand through the air. "I do believe his twin was, as they say, his better half." He grinned at the assassin. "And perhaps there is some value to the bonds that humans grow. It seemed to make them strong, and perhaps it would have been enough to make them successful had they not been lacking business sense."

Entreri stared at Jarlaxle, meeting that one-eyed gaze, and tried to determine what he was driving at. "A drow thinks there is value and strength in familial love?" he asked, incredulous.

Jarlaxle merely shrugged and grinned.

Thinking over all that had passed between them over the years, especially in the past several days, Entreri frowned and finally nodded. "You've always been a good judge of others' characters and strengths. If you believe it is so, I won't argue."

For a moment, Jarlaxle looked so shocked that Entreri wondered that he didn't fall off his horse. "Ah, well," the drow said, a genuine smile blooming on his face. "I suppose that means you finally accepted my wisdom, my friend."

Entreri snorted and gazed down the road ahead. "Or you have accepted mine, making you capable of something other than swallow thinking."

"Not at all." Jarlaxle chuckled. "I am several hundred years your senior, after all."

Entreri smirked. "Yes, you're quite ancient. So don't push your luck, _my friend._"

In response, peals of joyous drow laughter drifted down the street.

* * *

_A/N: I left this as open-ended as possible because I wanted you guys to imagine whatever you like. I laid groundwork so you can imagine it either way: Artemis and Nyx get together or they just stay friends; Tai and Miri get back together again or don't; and Entreri eventually becomes a vengeful, LN, Holy Javelin of Hoar or stays a LEish assassin who finally managed to accept some friends. There is even a small possibility that Miri could become a Holy Javelin and be the second Javelin who protects the Chosen of Hoar. In fact, I even left it open enough for you to imagine Lander escapes completely and gets his twin resurrected. All roads are open; imagine whatever makes you happiest._

_That said, I do have two people who want to pick up where I left off—Sushi-san85 and Chi. Each has very different paths she wishes to take, so you guys should have fun reading their ideas. Disclaimer: I hereby disown any credit for the events and development of future stories using my OCs, although I retain rights to them as my creations. _

_Now, thank you to everyone who has read, reviewed, and faved this story. I would also like to take the opportunity to thank everyone who was read, reviewed, faved, and encouraged this entire 10-story series (including "Masquerade of Monsters"). I appreciate all the support and help over nearly 5 years' worth of time, and I thank everyone who has acted as beta reader over the course of my FR fanfic career, especially my primary beta, Darkhelmetj, and Chi, who betaed ch. 6 of this story._


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